#but it made him the focus of the card
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8/9 - Steph Brown tarot card designs for Complete Candor by @vexfulfolly as part of the @batfam-big-bang
Read the fic here!
Other cards:
1-Babs 2-Cass 3-Bruce 4-Tim 5-Damian 6-Jason 7-Duke 8-Steph 9-Dick
Image IDs
Image 1:
A design of the "Judgement" tarot card. It has the texture of recycled paper and reads "JUDGEMENT". A symbol of two clouds is visible behind the numeral "XX".
Steph Brown faces foward in her Spoiler uniform. She has pupil-less white eyes and is shrouded in purple smoke. There are a few stylised lilac-coloured clouds in the foreground, partially obscuring her. The bottom half of Cluemaster's face is visible in the background with a hand reaching to grab her.
Image 2:
A design of the "Judgement" tarot card. It has the texture of recycled paper and reads "JUDGEMENT" upside-down. A symbol of a rabbit and a wolf is visible behind the numeral "XX".
Steph Brown stands with her back turned in her Robin uniform. She is standing in a pool of blood. A large shadowy Batman is in the background. The lower half of his face is visible and his hand reaches out to grab her. The yellow bat on his chest fades into the blood. The entire card is upside-down.
#fic rec: complete condor by vexfulfolly#batfam big bang#ok look Steph were maybe the second or third ones I designed#and by FAR took the least time somehow????#I really struggled with her in the thumbnail stages though#I had originally had her and cluemaster swapped since she was hunting him#but it made him the focus of the card#and I guess it make sense this way too- she is ultimately shaped by her father#even if not in the way he had wanted her to be#he didn’t have control of her but his actions still controlled hers ykwim???#and then for reverse- well.#Bruce never wanted her as robin to begin with#and the job killed her#as a side- jason returned as red hood to Gotham just after she died so-#imagine that. he came back to find another dead robin- like they really WERE expendable to Bruce#steph brown#stephanie brown#the spoiler#robin#dc comics#fanart#batfam#tma#the magnus archives#tarot cards#tarot art#batman#my scribbles#cw blood#tw blood
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Roughly-done manga and anime comparison for yorishima's debut! ✨️
#wanted to see if the anime Truly made him waaay more handsome than what i remembered he looks like in the manga... i was correct 😭🤚#yeah no wonder the kr side of the fandom calls him yorishima oppa lmaoo 😭😭😭 peepaw is drop-dead gorgeous with that 20 y.o anime face card#i feel like midorikawa's focus on the eyes or half of the face for small panels gave yorishima a mysterious side#but the anime's choice of fully showcasing his face for those panels don't look so bad either! it gave us more hansome peepaw to gawk at 🫡#he could stand to look a little meaner (eyebrows even more scrunched with that pouty mouth combo) but his anime debut looks amazing still 🤩#yorishima#natsume yuujinchou#natsuyuu#natsume yuujinchou s7#natsume's book of friends#natsuyuu s7
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Hello to the Buddyfight fandom it's been a hot minute but god do i miss this show and have been making fanart for it in the background so i thought i'd post to tumblr too ^^
I swear every year I end up coming back to this show and wishing that it kept going, that it got rebooted, that i could just erase my memories of this show and just watch it all over again from the beginning to enjoy everything once again from Tasuku's own sense of justice twisting against him to Gao's suffering of PTSD and how heartfelt it was handled.
There's something very special about this show that I haven't been able to find replicated elsewhere. It has the most perfect world to exist (so much so that i'd love to be isekai'd into it if i could!!!) and while i have my own gripes with it (hi S3+) i honestly sometimes wish i could go back to my high school years of watching this show just to relive it all again :'D
Anyways!!! I hope there's still people out there who enjoy this show even ten years later who'll like seeing new funny artwork for it!
I wanna add too that i'm hoping to create a rewrite of FCBF (ft. seasons 1-3 + Ace) or at least create more artwork for my interpretation of it and its world!
Because, sincerely, this show is one of the few that, for all its flaws, hasn't disappointed me in the years that've followed unlike many other things i've seen and i wanna try to keep the spirit of it alive while I can thanks to that. And if there are any fans still in existence who love it, i wanna provide some food while its once again in my orbit because damn do i adore this show <3 <3 <#
#it's been like a year but im back on my buddyfight kick again#and since im back feeling dejected about OC things again i might try and focus on buddyfight stuff for a bit :Dc#fcbf#future card buddyfight#buddyfight#Deathgaze Death Dragon#Noboru Kodo#Tasuku Ryuenji#Gao Mikado#Drumbunker Dragon#Sawblade Dragon is a funny little critter I made as part of Tasuku's deck in my AU that im writing#and the other two monsters you can just barely see in the last image are Gallows/a Buddy I gifted Sofia#because tbh Sofia really needed a Buddy#specifically a Star Dragon World one#though as of this point in my AU she doesn't have her Star Dragon buddy bc it doesn't “Exist” yet ofc#middlemost image is also an old art thing but a headcanon thing for those mystery kids bc i like them despite not being a fan of-#Sofia/Tasuku all that much (tho had more effort gone into the writing behind them i probably would have liked them tbh lol)#I mean who doesn't like the idea of a guy who was at her side specifically and worked with her to achieve the bad guys goals#ends up watching his precious Buddy be attacked by her which is what snaps him out of his corrupted mental state to finally realize he's in#the wrong#& then when he later meets her as enemies he suffers cognitive dissonance of both loathing and respect towards her which culminates in him-#holding a personal vendetta towards her while also recognizing her efforts as a former ally who helped him during his Disaster days#and so when he gets to the future and has to rely on her help and guidance he has to confront the fact they're two sides of the same coin#& that she's neither an ally nor enemy but a mirror to himself of what he could've been if he'd decided to take action outside of the law#i mean#there was a LOOOOOOT of missed potential between Tasuku & Sofia if the show really wanted to go down the route of implying they end up a-#couple in canon (ESPECIALLY compared to Tasuku/Gao where it's clear Tasuku cares deeply about Gao and doesn't give a damn about Sofia)#and idk i felt we were robbed of a lot of things that could have given chemistry between Sofia and Tasuku
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( P*SSY GOT ) P☆WER !?
bad ☆ summary. converting a loser into a munch wasn’t on your yearly bingo card ( or was it ? )
content ★ warnings. explicit content. mdni. foul language. situationship!gojo. college au. cunningulus. frōtting. premature ejaculātion. fīngering. eventual smut. gojo pines for like 99% of the fic. he also studies in pornology. reader is kinda bratty. mention of death lightheartedly. a lot of italicized words. lowkey gojo centric? 6.4k words (bye).
rena’s ☆ note. SATORENA COMEBACK … sorta (・・?)
“gimme a kiss.”
your face scrunches before the words can express your distaste. with your hand on the handle of his car’s door, your fingers tighten around the metal bar, half tempted to leave the man at your left— rosy lips puckered into an obnoxious smooch.
his eyelids are shut tight as his brows furrow to the centre of his forehead, face leaned in. you chuckle at his theatrics, lifting your free hand to press your digits at his pucker. his eyelids open as his brows now loosen, “gojo, bye.”
you feel his hands wrap around your wrist, gently lifting your hand off his mouth, though your fingers hover over his lips still, “girl.” he tilts his head to the side, emitting an aura of sass you’ve yet to understand, “it’s satoru to you— i can’t even have a little one? haven’t i been good all day?”
you click your tongue, “you been runnin’ your mouth all day long actually,” and before your mind can even process your following words, you focus on the way his plump lips fall into another one of his childish pouts. cute. however he chooses to take your invitation is all up to him. your eyes dart to the rosy flesh as you hum, “mhm, if only you ate pussy as good as you talk shit.”
you feel the hold on your wrist drop, as his frown switches to a blank stare. you cock a brow, watching as the hand his steering wheel tightens.
he gulps, eyes narrowing before glancing over to the leather wheel, “i, uh, don’t eat pussy.”
oh. . . oh.
the slam of the car door speaks the rest for you.
“woah— hey!” gojo yells after you, though your figure seems to get smaller with the steps you take. in your hold is your purse, bouquet of flowers he’d bought earlier and house keys. “baby, hold on— this damn window,” he cusses, removing the barrier between you and him angrily. you hadn’t even hesitated to exit the car, as if he’d said the world’s most vile comment.
you’re not listening, and for some reason gojo feels his heart sink to the bottom of his stomach. what the fuck had he said that made you all upset with him?
he watches helplessly as you insert your key into the hole. the chiming sounds of your keys serve as a reminder that he was definitely in trouble. that and he wasn’t getting his damn goodbye kiss.
he sighs instead, albeit defeatedly. “am i at least gonna see you soon?”
the front door opens and you look back over your shoulder, and god— he really thought he had it. his lips threaten to pull into a smile, ready for your little mood to be over with.
you grin and as does he. you even give him a cute wave, thank fuck, “have yourself a nice life, baby.”
and the front door closes. damn.
☆ ☆
“you said what?!”
gojo groans into the phone, sprawling himself on his king sized mattress that suddenly feels way to big for him alone. where were you when he needed you? oh that’s right, “she ghosted me! i’m blocked on all socials— can you believe that?”
he tried reaching out to you through texts to make sure you were feeling okay, but the shade of green told him everything he needed to know— especially as an apple user. he then proceeded to go through your social media, to double check his suspicions and there it was, user not found.
“uh, duh?” geto is as judgemental as ever, and gojo doesn’t try to suppress the roll of his eyes. “bro, you just told the girl you’re talkin’ to that you don’t give head. the fuck d’you think was gonna happen?”
“it’s not even a big deal!” he argues because his pride in on the line, and he ignores the groan geto gives him across the phone. rude. his fingers pinch at the top of his nose bridge, “was it really necessary to block me? literally just tell me to kill myself at this point.”
“pretty sure that’s what she blocked you for.” geto snickers, and gojo realizes he’s lucky they aren’t in person because he would have blocked him. instead he whines, pressing the speaker button before stuffing his face in his pillow. he’s probably insane but he swears there’s a hint of your scent there, and now he’s whining louder.
“quit bitchin’. you brought this upon yourself,” and out of spite, gojo whines louder. if his legs kick against his mattress childishly, it’s nobody’s business but his own. the love of his life just walked out of his life— give him a break. “and dude, no shade but do you really not eat pussy? are you gay or somethin’?”
“i am not—” he cuts himself off once the sound of his own voice echoes loudly in his lonely room. geto winces and gojo bites down on his tongue before sighing. “i’m not gay. i love women only. seriously. how does not eating pussy make me gay?”
the line goes quiet, and gojo can tell geto’s making that face he makes whenever he’s finding the right words to say without offending gojo. it ticks him off. “alright, lemme counter that question with one of my own. why don’t you eat pussy?”
gojo pauses. he tightens his fingers around his pillow as the question ponders. he thinks about having received head in the back of his car once, the other time in the bathroom of some frat party, and another in some girl’s bedroom. from all memories, he draws a similar conclusion— they always come onto him first.
“i dunno.” his lips fall into a pout, tracing patterns into his pillowcase with his index. “they never really ask, so i never bothered. that can’t be weird, right? all of my hookups have consisted of them pulling my pants down. why would i refuse? i get my nut and that’s that.”
and because geto is genuinely never on his side, “satoru . . . eugh.” some kind of best friend is he.
“what?!” he hisses in retaliation, glaring at his phone as if it would solve his issues. there’s nothing he hates more than feeling judged. “you fucking asked!”
“calm the fuck down,” he hears geto rolling his eyes. the white haired man huffs, the blow of air pushing his bangs up before they fall back down. okay, maybe he should calm down. whatever. “so essentially what you’re saying is you’ve never been put in a position where you could eat pussy?”
something like that, “sure.” gojo nods, and he doesn’t understand why geto sighs.
“why do i even bother?” though the answer is clear, he’s pretty sure geto was talking to himself. gojo clicks his tongue, ready to bark back but geto beats him to it. “so tell her just that— it’s not that you won’t give head, it’s just that you haven’t given head. which still blows me, but whatever.”
“how? remember she blocked me on everything?” the thought makes gojo whine again, throwing his limbs all over his bed. he hits his phone, then opts to grab it. “is that not entitlement? i have to bend my back all over the damn place just to get her to talk to me again?”
“satoru, you’ve literally done the same thing. don’t act like you’re above it,” geto chuckles and gojo hears shuffling in the background. the ravenette sighs in relief, and he assumes he’s now in his own bed. “besides, you fuckin’ love women who give you challenges.”
and fuck, he’s really not wrong. “yeahhh, you know me so well.” he wipes a fake tear from his eye. he rolls over onto his back, “welp, i’m gonna log into your insta to stalk her account. i miss her so much i’m literally gonna die.”
“satoru.” geto warns him, but gojo is quicker than that. he’s already typing your name into the search bar, username memorized as if it were his cellphone number.“i swear to god if you accidentally like her shit—”
“thanks bestie, love ya lots!” and he hangs up the phone. and with a shit eating grin, he giggles, “time to start lurking.”
☆ ☆
so it’s been months (read: four days) since he last seen you. he’s thankful you’re at least in two of his courses, so he has some sort of opportunity to reach you. he’d spent the last months (hours) stalking your page, viewing your stories to see if there’d been any indicator that you missed him as badly as he missed you.
and all he’s gotten so far is that you spent friday out to dinner (with him) (it was just a mirror pic of your outfit but an outfit you wore on a date with him) (you love him so bad), you had a girls’ night on saturday with shoko and utahime (he barely registered they were in the selfie) and sunday was a study sesh you had at the cafe across the college. he had to screenshot and zoom in to ensure there were no signs of living souls in the same booth as you.
he was still in the clear. whew.
and so monday morning falls, and he’s actually rushing to get to class for once (late but as expected). the one of two classes he shares with you. he hopes he’ll find you sitting in your habitual seat, not too far up close yet not too far back, and he might pull the fire alarm if he spots anybody next to you.
he’s a man on a mission— he’s going to talk to you today. he needs to be back in your good graces. there were many things he wanted to yap to you about, many places he thought of taking you over the weekend, many moments he wanted your soft lips back on his and your gentle hand back in his own.
he misses you, damn it.
there you sit, in all your glory, shining so bright in the middle of this depressing ass psychology course in the early hours of the butt fuck morning. he sees you twirling your pen in between your fingers, your cheek leaned into the palm of your hand— and nobody by your side.
if he rushes and trips over his feet momentarily to get to you in time, it’s nobody’s business but his own (and the girl who’s backpack laid useless on the floor. hazard much.)
he so much as plops into the seat as he does actually sit in it, and he watches as you jerk in surprise. though, the look of surprise is quickly replaced by aloofness. you feel different— not entirely closed off but not as welcoming as you usually are. you’re probably still done with him.
well it’s too damn bad he’s not done with you, “good morning, princess.”
you blink at him, before nodding your head curtly. “morning, gojo.” and you turn your focus back onto the professor. just like that, you shut down another conversation.
he doesn’t like that, and so he pokes at your side and chews at his strawberry gum. “you blocked me on everything.”
“i did.” you answer shortly, though your eyes never leave the professor. he cannot be that interesting, who actually gives a fuck about cognitive dissonance?
“seen this new bakery shop down the street.” he tries again. “wanted to take you but that was impossible because somebody blocked me.”
“i mean, you know where i live.” you shrug, writing whatever the fuck the professor had mentioned in your notebook. wait, what? you turn your head to see him gaping at you in confusion, and you smirk at his silence.
“cat got your tongue?” you quip, amused by his stillness. your eyes sparkle mischievously, though your smile isn’t entirely full. don’t tell him, you’ve been— “too bad it’s not mine, though.”
ohhh, you cheeky brat.
“so. . . you were never really mad at me?” gojo blinks, his mind running miles a second. nothing was adding up, he was positively certain you were cutting ties with him. “this whole time. you weren’t mad about the pussy eating comment?”
“don’t get it twisted,” you raise a brow, crossing your arms over your chest. you lift a finger in the air before pointing at him, “you,” and then pointing at yourself “and i are done. we can still be cool but i’m not wasting my time with no bitch—respectfully.”
“so you are mad?” he asks again, disregarding the bitch comment. he knows what he’s supposed to say— to clarify the situation, to make it known that it’s not like he’s repulsed by the idea of giving head— but you make it so hard to stay on track when you’re acting defiant.
suguru was right— he does love a challenge.
“mad?” you giggle, and gojo leans back in his seat. damn, you’re confusing. stone cold one minute but all giggly the next. it’s cool, he’ll figure you out. “i ain’t trippin’ baby— if you don’t wanna eat it then don’t. another man definitely will.”
huh, “oh?” his eyes narrow just slightly, though the smirk on his lips never falter. he ignores the way his stomach just dropped to his ass at your implication— there is no way in hell is he letting another man have you. not when he’s still alive and breathing. “if you think i’m letting that happen, you’ve got another thing comin’.”
“everything seems to be coming but me,” you bat your lashes, and damn he fell right into that one. you drop your pen down, giving him one last smile before redirecting your focus to the professor before you. “the real question is what do you plan on doing ‘bout that?”
you give him no time to respond, and it’s not like he thinks he would be able to, as you begin to pack your belongings into your tote bag. you’re leaving and he barely got to say what he’d been memorizing all weekend. oh well, at least he now knows you haven’t entirely cut him off.
if he doesn’t knows better, it feels like you want him to chase after you.
god, he thinks he’s in love.
☆ ☆
gojo satoru is amazing at everything. there truly isn’t something he can do that won’t come out spectacular. he’s gifted, that he knows much, and it’s difficult to stay humble when he’s constantly reminded of so.
“i can easily do this shit.” he mumbles to himself, cerulean eyes narrowing into focus at the bright lit screen of his ipad. his airpods are in, and he’s gonna be completely honest— the pornstar’s screaming is starting to get on his nerve. however, he’s always been an exceptional student and when it’s time to lock in, it’s time to lock in.
his legs feel as though they’ve fallen asleep in the criss-cross position he’s been sat in on his bed for the past two hours. irrelevant, he decides as he picks at his bottom lip with his fingers. his device is running hot with how long it’s been since it last caught a break, but he had bigger issues to worry about. so, basically all he has to do is spread open her lips and go to town until she squirts? sounds simple enough.
he watches as the guy begins motorboating into the girl’s pussy and— “damn, that looks like it hurts.” a grimace creeps onto his face as the guy repeatedly goes ham on swollen red lips. he’s got half a mind telling him that the moans the girl’s letting out are entirely out of agony and not pleasure.
“aaaalrighty,” gojo speaks up, though to himself. “next video, that shit was ass. pussy hurts just thinkin’ bout it, eugh.”
he finds an amateur video, and the thumbnail seemed intimate enough. after an agonizing ad of ‘want a quick break from the ads?’, the video begins. the upper half of the woman’s body is cut out of frame, but she’s laid onto her side, her backside in view. her top leg lifted just slightly, the man lays on his stomach and spreads them apart further and begins to lick.
he dives his tongue inside her cunt, not too sloppy, and gently works his way in. his thumb is caressing at her puckered forbidden zone, always gently, as his tongue glides up and down her labia.
gojo gulps. the girl makes soft sounds, hand coming down to play her the man’s hair, and he proceeds eat her out skillfully. her back arches, she whines and begs for more, and he never loses control. at some point, the hand that focused on her asshole moves up to grip at her cheeks, thus spreading her pussy lips further. she’s already wet from a mixture of fluids, and the sound it creates is so damn obscene.
gojo gulps again, and his sweats feel tight.
before his mind can even allow it, he’s thinking of you. he thinks of you on your side, legs spread open for his disposition as he brings you this same pleasure. as he lays himself on his stomach, munching at your pussy in ways that’ll have you squirming all over his bed, squeezing your plush thighs around his head and begging for him to give you more.
he thinks of how good you’d smell— how good you’d taste. he thinks of how nice you smell whenever you wrap your arms around his neck and he follows suit around your waist. he thinks of how sweet your lips taste when you’re straddling his thighs and slipping your tongue in his mouth.
pheromones are a crazy thing. your scent lingering in his car alone drives him insane. he’s so prone to boners around you, it’s like he’s a dog you’ve trained.
and now he’s thinking he wants you in this very bed at this very instance, ipad be damned, pussy spread open so he can feast. so he can relish the sounds you make as you call out his name, enamoured by the way his tongue would flick at your clit and break open that dam of water right onto his face.
“shit.” he chucks his ipad onto the floor, cradling his head into the palms of his hands. how had he not ever wanted to do this before?
☆ ☆
he doesn’t expect you to pick up. it’s far past two in the morning on a thursday night, and he’s missing you. badly. he misses you and your sweet smile. he misses you and your smart mouth. he misses you and the way your lips move so fluidly against his own, as if they were made for one another.
he really doesn’t expect you to pick up.
it’s around the fifth ring that he hears your honeyed voice, “hi.” his eyes widen as he sits up from his bed in a hurry. talk about a damn surprise.
“hey.” he says back lamely, because of course he does. he feels the corner of his lips tugging into a smile and his heart is beating wildly against his rib cage. “didn’t think you’d answer.”
“mhm. so what’d you call me for?” you sound tired, and he wonders if you’d been sleeping when he called. somehow, the thought makes his stomach churn at the implication you cut off hours of sleep for him.
“just wanted to hear your voice.” gojo answers as honestly as he can, leaning down to rest his back back into the mattress of his bed. he shuts his eyes and imagines his arm falling asleep underneath your head, using him as a pillow. “been missin’ you.”
“you literally see me every other day at school,” he’s graced with the harmonious sounds of your giggles, and he can already picture the way your shoulders shake as dimples curve into your cheeks. “y’re so fuckin’ clingy.”
he supposes he is, can’t even find it in him to disagree. you’ve been plaguing his mind since you cut him off (question mark) last week. he wasn’t sure what kind of ban you were putting on him, but he’s been tiptoeing around his relationship with you for too long. the absence of your presence in the way he craves is driving him nuts. he misses you, damn it.
a longing sigh rips from his throat, “can’t help that i miss that ass,” he jokes instead because talking about feelings and vulnerability is wrong. “you still owe me a goodbye kiss, y’know? just left a poor guy hangin’, rude.”
“hmm,” you hum lazily and he isn’t sure what to expect. he’s just talking out of his ass, wants to restore that playful banter you guys had prior to this whole pussy eating mess— which he’d gladly now get on his knees and rock your fucking world. “like i said already, you know where i live.”
“you got one more time to say that before i show up at your doorstep for real,” gojo tests the waters, and swings his legs off his bed. he’s waiting for a sign, confirmation, anything to ensure you were being serious. late night be damned, he will show up to your door and flip your shit right then and there.
“the fuck i gotta repeat myself for?” you sigh, and gojo’s slipping his shoes on. he’s wasting no more time, he wants you right now. “if you really missed me you would have been come see me. you’re all talk.”
“so when i yell at your doorstep to lemme eat it, don’t start lookin’ at me crazy—i’m warning ya.” and with that he hangs up. he’s not leaving any more room for debates, enough’s enough. and shit, when the fuck had he gotten bricked?
he grabs his keys and slams his door close.
☆ ☆
you’re looking at him like he grew an extra head on his shoulders overnight. he’s looking at you like the tee you have on your body decimated his entire bloodline. there’s a heavy silence between you both, as if either one of you are expecting the other to make the first move.
“you actually came.” you blink in mild shock, neck craning up to look him dead in the eye. he’s panting heavily, he might’ve ran here the second he could, but how could he not have?
“enough games, baby.” gojo answers instead and takes a step into your apartment. you back up in retaliation, and he takes another close step. you stay still this time. his hands sneak below the hem of your shirt and slide up to your bare waist, grabbing onto the plush flesh. you feel jolts of electricity imbedded into your skin with every lingering touch. “lemme eat it, come on. please?”
“oh?” you cock an eyebrow, raising a hand to press your palm flat against the plane of his chest. you feel his heartbeat thudding wildly. “and here i thought you were too good to stoop as low as giving women head.”
gojo clicks his tongue and tightens his hold on you. “i never said that.”
“you basically did.” you bite back, tilting your head to the side. you see his nostrils flare a bit, “or does that rule apply with just me?”
“if it did, would i be here at three in the morning begging to eat your pussy?” gojo rolls his eyes. you open your mouth but snap it back shut and gojo decides you conceded. he lifts you from the ground and places you on his shoulder, ignoring your ‘put me down!’ and opts to shut you up with a firm slap on your ass.
your cheeks jiggle from the impact, and his dick twitches in his briefs. as he suspected, you’ve got no bottoms on— just a cute pair of pink lace panties he wants to tear apart with his teeth. animalistic is what you make him.
“so. . . which one is your room?” he finds himself in the corridor, arm wrapped around the back of your knees. you fall limp in his hold, defeatedly as your arm lifts to point at the door at the end of the hall. he smirks and rubs at your booty, “atta girl. look at ya bein’ all obedient and shit.”
“shut up.” you huff, and he would bet a million dollars you’ve got that adorable pout on your lips. the one you make whenever you don’t get something done the way you planned.
your bedroom is everything he expected from you, fits your personality just about right. but—respectfully, fuck your bedroom. he’s got bigger issues to address, and that can only be done with your panties on the floor and a mouth full of your cunt. his dick is twitching uncontrollably at the thought of it alone.
“if you drop me on this bed, i swear i’m gonna kill you.” tilting your head, you warn him once he stands next to the edge of your bed frame. though a moot point, because if you know gojo as well as you think you do, you’re about to meet your duvets face first.
“mhm, what was that?” cupping a hand behind his ear, he pretends innocence then proceeds to do exactly what you warned him not to do. him and his long ass limbs, manhandling you all over the damn place as if its in his birthright. and no, it does not make your cunt clench, despite your thighs rubbing one against another. “sorry shortie, think i missed what you said.”
when you’re finally able to gain composure, you sit up on your elbows and furrow your brows in the nastiest scowl you can muster. he stands right above you, his frame so large it both annoys and turns you on. “gojo, you stupid fucking—”
you want to slap the smile off his face. “yeah, yeah.” he cuts you off, before leaning down to hover over you. his arms are pinned at your side, upper body pressing against yours. you feel the weight of his hips pressing into your legs, and so you widen the space. he fits in just as perfectly as you’d imagined he would. the tip of his nose brushes yours, biceps flexing in your peripherals. you feel his breath fanning at your cupid’s bow, warm yet it leaves shivers creeping at your spine.
“think you owe me somethin’, princess.” his voice comes out in a low growl, from the depths of his chest. his presence is so dominating— his bulge pressed right up against your aching cunt, the feel of his heartbeat right against yours. it all feels dizzying, the scent of his cologne filling up your nostrils and clouding any better sense of judgement.
he’s teasing you— leans in, brushes his soft lips against yours and watches as you lean forward to capture them but pulls away just in nick of time. he loves every one of your facial expressions, especially that adorable scowl of yours. he can’t wait to see the faces you make when you’re in absolute bliss.
he tilts his head just slightly, practically mouthing the words into your parted mouth. and with a low chuckle, he speaks, “if you want it, take it.”
you might’ve folded first, but he kisses you back just as eagerly, lips moulding into one another. you feel him sigh into your mouth, as if you’d relieved him of all stresses weighing on his shoulders. you lift a hand to cup at the back of his neck, fingernails scratching at the undercut at his nape.
gojo shudders beneath your touch, rolling his hips deeper into yours and relishes in the way you moan softly into his mouth. he wants to drink up every single sound you make, wants to discover your body’s sensitive spots and maneuver them into making a mess out of you.
your neck soon begins to ache, and almost as if he can read your mind, pushing deeper into you as you fall back onto your bed. he never takes his lips off of yours— not when the hold in his hair lowers in favour to grip at his biceps or stroke his back, not even when your legs wrap tightly at his waist. at a particular grind, you moan louder than any other sound you’d made all night, and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth.
“gojo,” you whine into his mouth, fingers clawing at his compression tee. he continues to roll his bulge into your clothed cunt, aiming at that spot that has you arching your back off the bed and into him. he grips a hand tightly at your plush thigh, his hold so hard you’re certain he’ll leave bruises. “you said y-you’d eat it. be a man of your, ngh, word.”
“yeah, that’s right,” he pulls away finally, a thin string of saliva connecting both your lips. he pecks at your kiss bitten lips, the dazed look in your eyes igniting a fire deep in his gut. “gotta keep my promise— can’t keep my baby waitin’ too long,” you feel his lips trail from the corner of your lips to the slope of your jaw, “she gets all cranky an’ pissy.” from the column on your neck to your collarbone, “starts gettin’ all mean with me.”
“oh my gosh, shut up!” you complain, though your hold on him tightens. you feel the vibrations of his chuckles at your jugular, followed by a deep plunge on his teeth at the thin layer of skin and another agonizingly slow grind against your clit. “fuckin’— shit— hurry up already!”
“tsk, see what i mean?” gojo tuts, hands sliding down the curves at your torso. you feel his large fingers play with the material of your panties, rolling the lace between forefingers. the contrast of the coolness of his rings against your heated skin adds a strange stimulation to your senses. “so mouthy, ‘m gonna have to do somethin’ about that.”
“i’m mouthy?” you squawk, watching as he lifts your tee up from your body. he taps wordlessly at your waist and you understand to remove the article of clothing. you chuck the tee across the room, before redirecting your focus on the man peppering wet kisses all over your stomach. it leaves butterflies rattling inside. “you literally cannot shut the fuck up— what’s the hold up? awe, don’t tell me you can’t walk the talk?”
he pauses for a bit. he doesn’t let himself fall bait for your words. you’re just being bratty— all hot and bothered and can’t properly ask for what you need. you don’t have to worry, he’s here entirely for your pleasure. he isn’t even thinking about the way his cock throbs painfully in his boxers, doesn’t even attempt to relieve it at all.
and so, he kneels at the edge of the bed. with two large hands cupping at your hips, he pulls you closer to him and rests your thighs on his shoulders. he watches as your chest rises up and down, and you prop yourself back onto your elbows.
your eyes are misty, your lips swollen and wet, your hair a mess and your neck littered in marks that scream gojo. you already look fucked out and he hadn’t done shit. god, he can’t wait to stuff his face between your thighs.
“i got you baby,” he drags his index finger right in the center of your cunt. he can both feel and see the material dampen with your arousal, your hips squirming as you chase for more. he licks his lips as he narrows in on the treasure, he swears he hears his stomach growling. “promise i do. just relax for me, yeah?”
“whatever.” you mumble, and comply to his order. he calls you a good girl, before stroking at your clit some more. the reactions you give will forever be imprinted in his mind, fleeting touches already granting him the opportunity to hear your delicate voice once more. you may be impatient but gojo is worse, and he decides that he wants to see your cunt now. he pushes your panties to the side, and the sight he’s rewarded with nearly— nearly, had him cumming right on two knees.
gojo gulps. “holy shit,” he feels his voice waver in excitement, eyes widened as he stares dead on. your cunt clenches around nothing from the switch of temperature, oozing more of your arousal down to your sheets. your pussy lips are puffy, clit sitting atop so prettily and damn, he wants to hump something.
he isn’t sure why but you try to close your thighs together, rude much, though gojo is much stronger. he keeps them spread wide, and shoots you a look. “do not.”
“tsk.” you click your tongue, looking away. and, oh, are you shy? “stop staring, you fuckin’ weirdo.”
he’s too far enamoured by the slick dribbling from your tiny hole down the crack of your ass. it trickles so tauntingly, that he finds himself nearly jealous. he wishes he could be there— oh wait, “just appreciatin’ my meal before i eat, sue me.”
the pad of his thumb collects your juices before popping it into his mouth. “wow,” he mumbles, more so to himself, at your taste bursting onto his taste buds. it’s so undoubtedly you, a raw and truthful you, and he gives you no warning before diving right in.
“fuckkk,” you throw your head back, hand flying to grab at the nearest thing in your vicinity— which so happens to be tousled, fluffy hair.
so, first time for everything right? but gojo maneuvers his way into your pussy as if he’d done this before. he starts off with kitten licks, teasing you some more before flattening his tongue and dragging it up and down your lips. he swallows and moans into your cunt, fingers digging deep into the back of your thighs.
he’s practically making out with your pussy. he doesn’t neglect any area, not even the clit surprisingly, as he latches his lips to the bundle of nerves and lightly nibbles. now that has your back arching and pushing his head deeper into you. if there was a way to go in life, he’d gladly take this death.
he’s so painfully hard it hurts, unable to control the way his hips grind against the bed frame. your scent is driving him feral, the way you tug on his hair harshly has his balls tightening and the way you cry out his name makes him want to imprint his name inside of you.
“s-satoru!” oh god, you’ve done it. you finally said his first name and he’s this close to painting his briefs white in shame. he continues to flick his tongue inside your hole and similar strokes to his humping. “you’re doin’ s’gooddd baby, shit!”
keep praising him and he’s gonna bust. he lifts himself away from your pussy, eyeing the gooey center almost offensively, “why the fuck do you taste so good?” he lands a wad of spit down, as he brings two digits to properly rub his saliva into your essence. the sounds it produces are so wet, it’s damn near filthy. he clicks his tongue, “seriously. ‘s makin’ me mad almost.” he slaps at your cunt twice, watching how your spray down his wrist.
“you s-sure this is your first, hnng, time?” you accuse, to the best of your abilities, as you feel him slip a finger in. you’re so lubricated, the slip inside was easy. pushing past that first ring of muscle, he’s pumping in and out of your cunt with precision, curling his digit as if he’s aiming to find a specific area. “y’know too much— mmph, fuckin’ liar.”
when he thrusts into a specific angle, your thighs tremble terribly around his head. he smirks, found it. “watched a lotta porn.” and he isn’t lying, he thinks back to how he studied the arts of cunningulus, and recalls the double combo. he has to try it, so he’s back to sucking and nibbling at your clit while adding an extra finger inside.
“oh my goddd,” you whine, feeling your limbs liquify in heat from every extremity. he pushes your knee further into your chest, and so you grab ahold of both your thighs. he hums approvingly, dragging his free hand along the soft skin of your legs. “don’t— don’t stop, please don’t stop,”
your toes are curled, back off the mattress and the pain in his scalp is shooting straight down to his cock. he’s rutting and rutting into the wooden frame, the flat surface painfully teasing though it does do the job. or maybe he has you to blame.
he feels saliva dripping down his chin, the way his tongue slides into your folds and feels his knuckles in there. his fingers move in scissoring motions, rotating circles, in and out— all the while repeatedly attacking your golden spot.
you severely underestimated him, and can barely process the orgasm that rips through you when he presses a hand onto your lower belly, “‘m cumming, fuck, ngh, don’t stop—” and you wail, fingernails clawing intensely into his tresses, torn between pushing him away and pulling him in closer. he decides to make that decision for you, stuffing himself as deep as possible to not miss a single drop, and your thighs clench against his ears.
so, gojo satoru is a shameless man. as you flood into his mouth and onto his face, grinding out your orgasm and using him as nothing but a toy for your own high— somewhere along the lines, he feels his briefs are sticky. he moans sluttily into your pussy, hips twitching incessantly as his cock shoots loads of nut into his boxers.
it feels like an eternity yet simultaneously a second when you’ve come down from your high, body twitching as gojo slows down his movements, his finger pumps gradually lessening in intensity and the kitten licks on your abused clit coming to a halt.
his face is soaked. his skin feels moist and damp, a thick air of humidity beginning to grow in the room, but he genuinely couldn’t care less. his eyes are stuck on you, limbs sprawled out limply against your bed, your chest heaving, tiny breaths coming out of your mouth.
he slides out his aching fingers, and pops them back in his mouth, tongue wrapping around his digits so eagerly, basking in your taste once more. absolutely divine,
“christ, i’d make a nasty pornstar.”
gojo won the poll. . . everybody act surprised (°_°)
#rena☆star.#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk smut#jjk x reader#gojo satoru smut#gojo satoru x reader#gojo smut#gojo x reader#gojo satoru#jjk#jjk x you#gojo x you#x reader#gojo satoru x you#gojo satoru x y/n
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Temple— Nicholas Chavez x Fem!Reader
summary— they always say “your body is a temple” and boy is nicholas’ body a temple you love to climb and worship.
warnings— PURE SMUT. fingering, hand job, oral(m receiving), unprotected sex, mirror play, spit kink, praise kink, degrading kink, body worship, ass slapping, choking, creampie, daddy kink, breeding kink, cum eating, rough sex, aftercare, fluff.
a/n— ovulating and wrote this based on these pictures because he looks so good, ugh, i NEED him. (not prof read)
You were wandering the aisles of your favorite boutique, surrounded by the chatter of other shoppers. Just as you picked up a cute dress, your phone buzzed in your pocket. You fished it out, expecting a simple text, but what you saw made your breath hitch and your pussy throb.
Nicholas had sent you a picture of himself shirtless, standing in his bathroom with the light cascading down his chiseled abs, his hair slightly damp and tousled and then one with the hat you gifted him on. He looked incredible, his physique had transformed since you first started dating for his new roles, becoming more defined and muscular, and it left you utterly speechless.
You couldn’t help but bite your lip as heat pooled in your core. God, he looks good. You remembered when you first met him, he was charming and sweet, and you loved him just as he was then. But this new version of him? It ignited something deep within you. It was as if every sculpted muscle was begging for your attention, and all you could think about was how much you needed him inside you, pounding you.
The dress you were holding suddenly felt heavier as you clutched it tighter, trying to maintain your composure in the middle of the store. Your thighs clenched instinctively, and you could feel the flush creeping up your cheeks. How was it possible for someone to look that good? You found yourself blushing, desperately trying to focus on the price tags in front of you, but your mind was racing with thoughts of him.
You quickly typed back, your fingers trembling as you tried to keep it casual. “Wow, what are you trying to do to me?” You hit send, your heart racing with anticipation. He was always playful, but this felt different, this felt more personal, more intimate.
As you made your way to the cash register, you could still see him in your mind, his body the definition of perfection. You swiped his card without a second thought, the thrill of using his money adding to your excitement. If only he were here right now. You imagined him behind you, his hands resting on your hips, whispering sweet nothings as you paid.
Your thoughts swirled with desire, longing to feel his warmth against your skin, to wrap your arms around him and pull him in close. His body was a temple, you thought, it was a holy site you craved to explore.
With a final glance at the dress in your hands, you decided to head home, your mind set on what would happen once you got there. You needed him, and you could already envision the fire igniting between you two as soon as you walked through the door.
As you rushed through the front door, adrenaline surged through you. You barely took the time to drop your shopping bags before you heard the unmistakable sound of the shower turning off.
You quietly made your way down the hallway, the steam still lingering in the air, and as you approached the bathroom, you caught a glimpse of him stepping out, droplets of water glistening on his perfectly chiseled body. Nicholas looked like a god, one you craved to worship, his muscles taut and glistening under the dim light, every curve and contour accentuated.
You leaned against the doorframe, mesmerized, your breath catching in your throat. This was everything you’d imagined and more. He dried himself off with a towel, completely unaware of your presence, and for a moment, you relished the view, every single inch of him was a work of art.
But you were done watching. The heat radiating from your core was too strong to ignore, and all rational thoughts slipped away. Without a second thought, you slipped out of your clothes, leaving yourself bare and vulnerable in the dim light.
The chill of the air contrasted sharply with the heat building inside you, but it only fueled your desire further. You stepped into the bathroom, your heart pounding, and when he finally turned to face you, his eyes widened in surprise and hunger.
“Nicholas,” you breathed, your voice thick with need. You stepped closer, the space between you two disappearing as the urgency of the moment enveloped you.
“Hey baby— oh shit.”
His towel dropped to the floor, forgotten, and in that instant, the world outside ceased to exist. It was just the two of you, raw, exposed, and yearning for each other.
“Oh god, I need you so bad,” you whined, your body pressed against his as you desperately kissed him all over his chest and tipped to meet his cheeks and lips.
Nicholas pulled you close, laughter in his eyes as he felt your warmth enveloping him. “What’s gotten into you, pretty baby?” he teased, a playful grin spreading across his face.
You looked up at him, your heart racing as you felt the heat radiating off his body. “Look at you,” you replied, your voice breathless. “Walking around here looking like this, sending me pictures of you shirtless… God, what do you expect?”
With a mischievous smile, you moved behind him, admiring his tall, muscular frame in the mirror. You couldn’t help but caress his abs, fingers tracing the defined lines, marveling at the way his body felt under your touch. He threw his head back in pleasure, a low groan escaping his lips as your hands explored him.
The atmosphere shifted, the playful banter giving way to something more primal. You could feel the heat radiating from him, the way his body responded to your every caress. His thick, long cock was painfully hard now , and you could sense the need in him building, mirroring your own.
You wrapped your fingers around him, stroking him gently as you both stared into the mirror. The sight was mesmerizing, his face contorting with pleasure, the way he fell apart under your touch, completely lost in the moment.
As you continued, you watched him unravel, utterly captivated by how hot he was, how perfectly he fit into your desires.
“Look at yourself daddy, I’m making you feel so good, you look so fucking sexy,” you panted, speeding up your movements.
You bit your lip as you felt him jump and throb in your hands, everything he did made you feral. Then, with a shudder and a low moan, you felt the warmth spill onto your hand, a testament to the electric connection between you two.
“Open your eyes,” you demanded. They fluttered open and he watched in the mirror as you sucked his cum from off your fingers before lifting them up to his lips making him taste what was left of himself. He hummed in content, the sound going straight to your pussy but you would deal with that problem soon.
“No,” you said, determination lacing your voice as you looked up at him. “I need to give you more. I want to show you just how much I appreciate you.”
Slowly, you sank to your knees, eyes locked onto his as you let your tongue glide over his chest, savoring the taste of his skin. You trailed your tongue down to his abs, worshipping every ridge and contour. “You’re so beautiful,” you murmured, your voice low and sultry. “So sexy, Daddy.”
His breath hitched at your words, and you could see the effect you had on him, his body responding to your every move. You reached down, wrapping your hand around his cock again, feeling him harden beneath your touch.
“Look at how big you are,” you praised, your voice dripping with admiration. “So perfect in my hands.” You leaned closer, giving him a teasing lick, savoring the taste of him, and your eyes rolled back in pleasure at how good he tasted. “Mm, you taste amazing daddy.”
With that, you took him into your mouth, feeling him fill you completely. The sounds of his pleasure willed you on, and you began to move, sending him to the back of your throat, lost in the rhythm of worshipping him. “You taste so good,” you whispered between breaths, and Nicholas groaned, his hands tangling in your hair, urging you on.
“Just like that, baby,” he praised, his voice thick with desire. “You’re fucking incredible.”
You continued, letting his praises wash over you, and as you felt him hold your head down and cum down your throat, it was like fireworks exploded around you. You savored the moment, knowing you had brought him to this point of ecstasy.
You couldn’t help but smile as you looked up at him, feeling bold. With your fingers, you gathered the rest of his release from his hard cock and brought it to your mouth. You took it in, savoring the taste, and smeared it and your saliva over his chiseled abs. You couldn’t resist the urge to lick it all off, your body shuddering with each stroke of your tongue.
“God, you’re fucking perfect, y’know that?” he said, watching you with a mix of awe and desire. “I appreciate that, baby. But now, it’s my turn to make you feel good.”
He positioned you in front of him, hoisting one of your feet up onto the counter, giving him a better angle. “Open your mouth,” he commanded softly, and you complied eagerly, watching as he spat into your waiting mouth. You swallowed it happily, feeling the rush of satisfaction.
Nicholas trailed his finger down your body, stopping at your soaking wet pussy. As he slipped a finger inside you, you gasped, your body arching toward him instinctively. “Look at yourself in the mirror,” he instructed, his voice thick with lust. “Look how beautiful you are.”
You glanced up, eyes locking with your reflection. The sight of you, flushed and breathless, sent a thrill through you. Nicholas’ finger worked expertly inside you, curling just right, and the pleasure began to build. “That’s it, baby. You’re so beautiful when you come apart like this,” he praised, his gaze never leaving your face as he watched you surrender to the waves of ecstasy. “Let me see you feel good.”
With each movement of his fingers, the pleasure surged higher, and you found yourself lost in the sensation. “Daddy,” your moans filling the room as you finally reached your release, trembling under his touch.
“That’s it, I’ve got you baby, daddy’s got you,” he cooed, rubbing your clit fast as your body jolted and slowly came down from your high.
Nicholas trailed kisses down your neck and across your shoulders, his lips warm against your skin. “Look in the mirror, baby,” he murmured, his breath hot against you. You obeyed, your heart racing as you met your own gaze, feeling every kiss ignite your desire.
With a sudden, playful movement, he bent you over the counter, a sharp smack landing on your ass. “You look so sexy like this,” he teased, watching you wiggle your backside against him. You grinned back at him, biting your lip. “You look like a Greek god,” you shot back, and he smirked, pride flashing in his eyes.
“Oh yeah?” he replied, holding your neck gently but firmly, bringing you back against his chest. You arched into him, feeling his hard cock tease against you as he slipped inside, filling you completely.
He began to pound into you roughly, his grip on your neck ensuring you were locked onto his gaze in the mirror. “Keep those eyes on me,” he commanded, and when you felt the urge to close them, he shook you slightly. “Look at yourself!”
“Daddy, you feel so good,” you gasped, feeling the pleasure building inside you.
“Tell me more,” he urged, his voice thick with desire. “Tell me how fucking hot I am.”
You nodded, breathless, “You’re so hot, so beautiful. I love your body, daddy. I love how you look as you pound into me.”
“Such a dirty slut,” he teased, reveling in the sight of you enjoying every second. He rubbed your clit, sending shocks of pleasure coursing through you. “Look at yourself being fucked.”
With a loud moan, you surrendered to the man behind, your release washing over you as you cried out his name like it was the only word you knew.
Nicholas smirked, a glint in his eye. “I’m not done with you yet,” he declared, hoisting you up effortlessly, arms hooked under your legs. He turned you sideways, positioning you perfectly so you could watch him slam into you.
“Worship me,” he commanded, his voice deep and gravelly making you throb.
You felt a surge of excitement course through you, and you nodded, biting your lip as you gazed into his eyes. “You’re everything, Nicholas. So strong, so perfect,” you whispered, your heart racing at the power he held over you, “you’re so fucking beautiful, your body is a work of art.”
With each thrust, he drove deeper, filling you completely. “That’s it, baby. You know how to treat me right,” he growled, his tone playful yet commanding. “Show me how much you want me.”
You leaned forward, kissing him passionately, your hands roaming over his chiseled chest and arms. “I need you,” you breathed between kisses. “You feel so good. I can’t get enough daddy.
“Good girl,” he praised, his voice thick with lust. “I want to see you cum again.”
You gasped as he hit that sweet spot inside you, sending waves of pleasure crashing over you. “Daddy!” you cried out, feeling yourself on the edge once more. “I’m so close!”
“Then let go for me,” he urged, his eyes locked on yours, watching as the ecstasy took over. “Worship your man, baby.”
With one final thrust, you felt the familiar rush of pleasure envelop you as you climaxed, a wave of satisfaction washing over you. “Nicholas!” you cried, and he groaned in response, losing himself in the moment as he held you close, his body trembling with the intensity of it all but still not releasing.
He didn’t let you go. Instead, he laid your body down on the counter just a little, your legs wrapped tightly around him as he pounded into you once more. The world flipped upside down as you caught your reflection in the mirror, his tall frame hovering above you. The sight of him, muscles glistening and face twisted in pleasure, made your head spin.
“Who’s your daddy?” he asked, his voice thick with desire, his hand firm around your neck, exerting just enough pressure to send shivers down your spine.
“You,” you gasped, barely able to catch your breath. “You look like a god, so so h-handsome.”
The feeling of being so close to him made you dizzy, and his relentless thrusts only intensified the sensation. “I’m gonna fill you up and breed you like a bitch,” he growled, and your body responded to his words, craving more.
“Please,” you begged, your voice barely above a whisper as you gasped for air, but the urgency in your tone said everything. “I want it. I want you. I want your cum inside me!”
He smirked, the heat of his breath against your skin sending another wave of pleasure through you. “Since you think I’m so perfect, we’re gonna make the most perfect little babies,” he teased, pounding harder, deeper. You could feel the tension building as he brought you closer to the edge once more.
With a final, powerful thrust, he filled you completely, each pulse of his hot cum sending waves of ecstasy coursing through both of you. You felt him tremble against you as he held your neck tightly, ensuring you were looking at yourselves in the mirror.
As the high faded, exhaustion washed over you. He scooped you up into his arms, your head resting on his shoulder like a baby, ironic, considering what just happened. He brought a towel to clean you up, laying you gently on the bed, his lips trailing soft kisses across your skin.
“You did so good, baby,” he murmured, pride evident in his voice. “You took me so well. I’m so proud of you. You’re so perfect, princess.”
You cuddled into him, tracing circles on his pecs as you kissed his chest, savoring the warmth and safety of his embrace. In that moment, everything felt right, the world outside forgotten as you enjoyed the afterglow of what you had just shared.
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losing my mind over "Miamiでmake some fucking noise" again 😭😭😭 bruh what,,, what Japanese enstarrie otaku went to Ultra Music Festival (tm) and decided to draw Tusmugi Enstars as one of the djs???? fuckin Tsumugi???? Tsumugi was in Miami????? did he meet Pitbull!?!?!?!?!?!?
They took this man to Ultra in Miami, Florida are you kidding me
#coyo speaks#I don't think I ever made that post about going insane for a character without even realizing it into you're too deep#but that's me with Tsumugi#like#it's very weird bc it's not like I saw him and was like wow I'm in love with him I need all his cards immediately#it's not like I played the game for a while and was like wow the more I learn about him and see him the more I really like him-#-and now he's one of my faves#like no#he's just... in the background constantly#and every so often I'll see something about him and go completely feral#and then he immediately fades back into the background and I don't focus on him at all#and then after going completely feral too many times I'm just like bro wait a minute why am I kinda obsessed with this guy#I still don't collect his cards or buy his merch like I'm not even tempted 99% of the time#but every so often I see a picture of him and lose my mind#anyway.... miamiでmake some fucking noise DJ Tsumugi
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your superior finding out about the secret praise kink you didn't know had a name because you'd always been called an over achiever, a goody two shoes. never gave anyone any trouble, nose burrowed in a book since you had knobby knees and a library card.
you'd thought it normal that the apples of your cheeks burned when praised after giving your teacher the drawing you'd made for them the night before. that heat spread from the center of your chest up when your first boyfriend/girlfriend whistled at the sight of you outside of uniform. that warmth settles in your belly when you get a pat on the back from your platoon leader firm enough to force the air out of your lungs because you'd disassembled and cleaned a glock with the ease of a professional.
apparently it wasn't.
after weeks of training with the fabled task force, weeks of sharing elbow room with the team, weeks of soaking up the dizzying praise from the captain ("did real good out there, eh? can always count on you." you didn't question the throb betwixt your thighs, taking care of it with a cute little bullet like you've always done since joining the military)
you're confronted by the worst of the lot. ghost catches you in a break room, your back to him, hands clutching a cup of coffee that's more sludge than liquid, its warmth barely seeping through the styrofoam.
his figure fills the doorway, shoulders nearly brushing the frame. your first thought is that his brows aren't twisted together and he lacks that cold, blank look in his eyes so your death isn't in the nearest of futures. the second is that when he's not fully covering his face, the outline of his jaw is quite visible, looking sharp enough to cut.
then he crosses his sculpted arms over his chest, seams straining against the expanse of his muscles, head tipped to the side.
he moves with the keen curiosity of a predator sniffing around a newborn fawn, gaze intense yet inquisitive, assessing your every detail with a menacing interest.
"you ever gonna tell me you've a praise kink, bird?" the question sends a chill through your veins before turning into a fiery rush as it races at twice the normal speed.
praise kink? no. surely not. doesn't everyone like to receive compliments?
"sure. i don't mind gettin' told i've an impressive cock but that's bed talk. you look ready to bend over 'nd show us how slick tha' pretty cunt can get over a rufflin' of hair and a couple of empty words."
that has you positively reeling, fingertips cracking the cup in your hands, pulse on your neck fluttering. you feel a cornered, skittish animal, ready to flee lest your life come to an end in his maws.
but as usual, the cruel man more creature than person, twists the knife he's dug into you with a certain ruthlessness only he can muster.
"so be good for me, eh? love your praise? earn it."
you've always been an over achiever, proven once again by the way you take him to the root in one long, broad stroke with any complaints at the sheer size of him resting firmly behind your clenched teeth.
"tight little thing, spread open over me like you were meant for it. for me." he runs a gloved thumb over your swollen bottom lip. "there's tha' look. drivin' me bloody insane when you gave kyle tha' molten gaze. none o' tha' now, yeah?"
he creeps his ungloved hand down to circle your pearl with the spit-slick pads of his fingers, drawing in a sharp breath when your walls flutter and constrict around his cock at the feel of something other than your toy giving you the relief you need after a hard day's work.
"bloody fuckin' 'ell."
ghost claims a fistful of hair, pulling you closer to him, his breath warming the stinging, throbbing mark he bit onto the delicate skin of your neck. the shuffling of feet right outside the door snap you out of your daze, fingernails sinking into the bulging muscle of his chest but he has none of it.
he uses your hair to direct your focus back onto him and even though he'd only given you a leading tug you felt some strands of your hair come off with a pop.
"easy. can't see your pretty face when i'm fuckin' ya if your lookin' away."
your expression twists into what you hope is bliss when he bucks his hips, your whimper drowning out his groan when he hits on something new.
something you want him to keep hitting.
"exactly like i'd thought."
everything else blurs together after that, and only when you're back in your room using a warm cloth to clean yourself up do you remember the other things he'd rumbled.
(inside o' ya, make you mine-)
(-get 'bout bein' with anyone else-)
(-ll to myself-)
you touch your tender pussy with gentle fingers at what he'd said in the end.
(leave tha' f'me, he swipes your hand away, i'll get ya there, pet.)
if price's compliments take a nose dive off a cliff you don't notice because you're getting your daily fill of them and ghost after dinner every night. kyle keeps them to one word and soap likes to tempt fate as always.
#desperate gross old man definitely gets his ass chewed out later#what the fuck was he thinking fucking the newbie in the BREAK ROOM#not your fault though you're an angel and price will always have your six 👍🏽#unless laswell hears of your shit then you're on your own buddy#simon ghost riley#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x you#simon ghost riley smut#simon riley x you#simon riley smut#cod smut
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It didn't change, it was Lou then and it's Lou now 🦚
My 2° favorite though did change, because it used to be Beel but he's now fourth, having lost his spot to Satan and Solomon
#maybe if Solmare put some actual effort into writing him over the seasons he'd still hold the same spot 😅#like...#I can literally count in one hand the amount of times I remember being genuinely happy with the way solmare handled beel and#had no complains to make#also my boy barely gets any relevant scenes anymore :(#even recently in nb when it was his turn to be taken over by his sin or whatever ( spoilers ahead👇 )#i mean the way they wrote Satan's one was pretty disappointing too but Beel wasn't even taken seriously#it started interesting but then it became a food contest where little d was the focus and not Beel???#where's the scene with mc getting into Beel's mind and unraveling his deepest fears and struggles?#where MC gets a deeper understanding of his character and gets to comforts him and stuff#it had so much potential :/
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“just ditch it already.”
sukuna practically whines, watching you hunched over your desk that was covered with various papers and textbooks, and you were scribbling away in a notebook, eyes darting back and forth between the words.
you groan, “i told you, i have a final in two days.”
“so? you still have two whole days to study,” he says, crossing his arms as he lounges on your bed.
you turn to look at him, a scowl on your face, “fuck off.” you huff and he smirks.
“come on baby, i haven’t spent time with you for nearly two weeks.” he says and you roll your eyes, “jeez, who knew you were so clingy?”
he frowns, “i’m not clingy.”
“sure.” you hum, still focused at the work in hand.
a few moments pass and silence before he's calling out your name in a quiet murmur, “are you done yet?” he asks.
“no, i'm not even halfway done.” you sigh, “listen, i promise i'll spend time with you as soon as i'm done with this chapter, okay?”
he grumbles something incoherent under his breath and slumps back on your bed — thirty minutes pass and he watches as you let put a sigh of relief.
“you're done?” he asks, a bit enthusiastic.
“yep, made some flashcards.” you say, holding a stack of flashcards in your hand, “will you help me?”
he rolls his eyes, “fine.” he says as you join him on the bed, “bur you owe me.”
“yeah yeah,” you huff, handing him the flashcards for him to read the questions out for you.
a few cards and minutes later he lets out a loud sigh, “can we take a break?” he asks, and you frown at him, “ryo, there are only a few cards left.”
“yeah, but this is getting so boring. how are you not tired yet?” he says, sighing dramatically once more.
wow, he could really be a drama queen if he wanted to.
you suppress a giggle and he shoots you a nasty glare before you watch his eyes light up as if having a light bulb moment.
“tell you what,” he begins, “for every question you get right, i get a kiss, yeah?”
“no.” you deadpan, and before he could whine about why, you continue, “you know damn well it won't end at just kisses.”
“how low do you think of me?” he asks, feigning offense.
“i don't think low of you, i’m just being realistic.” you say.
“come on, it won't hurt for you to try.” he says, “besides, it'll make this so much less boring.”
after a bit more convincing, you finally gave in, opting to give him a soft peck for every question you got right.
of course, it didn't end there.
that's how you found yourself under him on your bed, with his lips latched on to the soft skin of your neck, your flashcards discarded somewhere and the only thing you can focus on is the way his hands wander all over your body, caressing and pinching at the soft skin.
“fuck you, ryomen.” you murmur breathlessly and you feel him smirk against your skin.
“anytime.”
taglist : @samaraxmorgan @call-memissbrightside @axryl @matsugumisou + send an ask to be added!
#drummer! sukuna college au#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#jjk headcanons#jjk sukuna#jjk x reader#sukuna#ryomen sukuna#sukuna headcanons#sukuna x reader
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strawberry wine
[part 2] pairing: modern au!viktor x artist!reader prompt: “if somebody were to kiss me, i’d want that person to be you” tags: you're jayces childhood bff, no use of y/n, alcohol, heavy kissing, drunk kissing, basically just a bunch of buildup towards a smutty fwb part two???, viktor being a menace wc: 4k notes: AU where nobody is sick or dying yay! also i think i managed to keep this pretty gn!reader but any future parts will be afab/fem art is from pinterest, dividers from chachachannah & webc00re
You never meant for things to get this far. You told yourself it was just a little fun, harmless and fleeting—nothing more. You had a career to focus on, friendships in the balance. But now, here you are, pacing the living room carpet thin, your cuticles raw from nervous chewing, and your thoughts spiraling into places you swore they’d never go.
It feels juvenile, almost laughable, like some smitten teenager waiting by the phone and sneaking kisses in shadowed corners. You were supposed to be above this, weren’t you? I mean, as a grown adult you should know how to keep it casual, uncomplicated.
But nothing about this is simple anymore. Not the friendship. Not the secrets. And certainly not the way your heart betrays you every time his name crosses your mind.
It definitely wasn’t supposed to be like this.
Moving back to the city hadn’t been on the bingo card for this year, but here you were. Your life had been tucked away in the quiet of rural landscapes, where your art had room to breathe—endless skies, rolling hills, and the kind of solitude that made inspiration flow without any distractions. But your career had expanded, and with that expansion came the relentless pressure of galleries, art buyers, and a future that demanded more from you than that peaceful escape ever could.
So, the city had called you back. Concrete towers, crowded streets, the city offered more. Shows. Opportunities. Jayce. The only thing about this cold, steel jungle that still felt like home. Jayce—your childhood friend, your constant in a world that had never stopped changing. Thrown together since you were practically in diapers, he was the one piece of your old life that had somehow survived the years and distance between you two. And now, after what felt like an eternity, here he was, sprawled across your tiny couch, looking too comfortable for someone who was just supposed to be a guest. The apartment was a bit small, as city apartments tended to be—packed between towering neighbors—but Jayce’s presence was the only thing about it that felt remotely like home.
"You know," he said, half-lounging. “I’ve got someone I want you to meet.”
You didn’t look up from your canvas, your brush already dipping into the paints like second nature. “Who?”
“Viktor”
You paused, only long enough for your brush to hover midair before you flicked your gaze in his direction. “Ah, yes. The famous business partner.”
Jayce’s grin didn’t falter, but there was something softer behind it now. “Yeah, something like that. But seriously, he’s a good guy. Brilliant, actually. You two would get along.”
You didn’t reply at first. Instead, you let the brush finish its arc, eyes back on your work, moving with the rhythm of a familiar task. “mhm” you murmured, distracted by the way the strokes of paint were bleeding together. “If he’s anything like you, how bad can it be?”
But Jayce, of course, wasn’t done. His voice took on that soft tone he reserved for moments when he really wanted to get his point across. “I’m serious, okay? I want you two to meet. You both mean a lot to me, and I think you’ll really hit it off.”
You didn’t look up, but you felt a weight behind his words, pushing against you with silent pressure. “Yeah? I’m sure it’ll happen, then.”
Jayce’s eyes lit up, a flash of triumph in them, like he’d just won some small but important battle. “You’ll see. I’m telling you—when you meet him, you’ll click. I know it.”
You leaned back in your chair, releasing a slow exhale, the kind that said everything without saying anything at all. A nonchalant nod was all you offered, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of saying more. “Fine. Fine. I’ll meet him. But don’t make a whole thing out of it.”
Jayce chuckled, and there was an odd note of relief in the sound, like he’d just been granted some unspoken permission. “No big deal, I swear. But you’ll see. You two are more alike than you think.”
-
When you finally did meet Viktor, Jayce was practically vibrating, his energy as unsubtle as ever. It had been after one of your gallery openings, a night you’d half-dragged yourself through on fumes and politeness. Your heels had barely cleared the threshold of his apartment before the faintest twinge of suspicion began to creep in—something about the way he hovered, grinning like a man with a secret.
“You deserve a good meal after tonight,” Jayce had said, ushering you in with the kind of charm that usually preceded one of his schemes. “Thought you’d want to celebrate somewhere that doesn’t reek of overpriced wine and small talk.”
You rolled your eyes but let yourself be corralled, the promise of food outweighing the odd note in his voice. His large apartment, at least, was familiar territory: warm, cluttered with bits of tech and sentimental junk from years past, the faint scent of whatever candles he refused to admit he hoarded lingering in the air.
And then you heard it—the low murmur of another voice, sharp-edged and vaguely amused, drifting from the kitchen.
Jayce froze, his grin faltering for a split second before it reappeared, brighter than ever. “Oh, right,” he said, far too casually. “Viktor’s here.”
You blinked, narrowing your eyes at him. “You conveniently forgot to mention that part.”
“Come on,” he pushed, throwing an arm around your shoulders and steering you toward the source of the voice. “It’s no big deal. Just dinner. You’ll like him, I promise.”
And there he was, perched by the kitchen counter with a faintly perplexed look on his face. He was slimmer than you’d expected, pale and sharp-featured, with hair that looked like it hadn’t met a comb in days. His amber eyes flicked up to meet yours, narrowing slightly as if he were trying to solve a puzzle that had just been placed in front of him.
“Ah,” he said, his accent lilting and crisp, “so this is the infamous artist.”
You shot a glare at Jayce, who was already heading for the stove with the kind of forced cheer that made it painfully clear he’d orchestrated the whole thing. “You owe me for this,” you muttered under your breath, stepping further into the kitchen.
Viktor’s lips twitched, the barest hint of a smirk appearing. “And here I thought I was being ambushed. Seems we’re both victims of his enthusiasm.”
Jayce turned from the stove, wooden spoon in hand, his expression utterly unrepentant. “You’ll thank me later.”
The dinner was simple but undeniably good—Jayce’s doing, of course. The man couldn’t let anyone step into his apartment without insisting they be properly fed, and tonight was no exception. Roast chicken, buttery vegetables with rice, warm bread that filled the space with its yeasty aroma—it was the kind of meal that made you feel at home even when you weren’t.
Conversation flowed easily around the table, mostly carried by Jayce, but Viktor wasn’t exactly quiet, either. He had a way of chiming in at just the right moment, his dry humor landing squarely between Jayce’s more exuberant anecdotes and your own occasional contributions.
“You mean to tell me,” Viktor said at one point, leaning back slightly in his chair, “that Jayce still hasn’t learned to cook rice without burning it? After all these years?”
Jayce, halfway through explaining some disastrous culinary attempt from his youth, turned to glare at him. “Excuse me, this rice was cooked perfectly.”
“It was fine,” you agreed, though the memory of a slightly crunchy bite or two made your lips twitch in amusement.
Viktor’s amber eyes sparkled as he gestured broadly. “Oh, fine! A glowing review, truly. Don’t let it go to your head.”
Jayce groaned, but there was no real bite to it. “You’re insufferable.”
“And yet,” Viktor said, raising his glass in a mock toast, “here I am. Invited to dinner. Again.”
Jayce just rolled his eyes and went back to his story, leaving you to glance at Viktor with a small smile. He caught it, of course, and gave a little shrug as if to say, what can you do? For all his sharp humor, he was easy to talk to, his wit balanced by an underlying warmth that kept him from coming off as too cutting.
Which was why you were only mildly surprised when the spoon incident happened.
Dinner was winding down, Jayce had disappeared into the kitchen to fuss over coffee, leaving you and Viktor to handle the cleanup.
He moved with a surprising ease, balancing a stack of plates in one hand, his cane steady in the other. It was a casual sort of competence, as though he’d long since adapted to whatever limitations life had handed him. You hadn’t thought much of it, impressed by how naturally he maneuvered, until the soft clatter of a spoon hitting the floor broke the quiet rhythm of tidying.
“Ah,” Viktor said, glancing down at the rogue utensil with a faint frown as he set down the plate stack. “Of course.”
You paused mid-step, glancing between him and the spoon. “Need a hand?”
He tilted his head, his expression a little too innocent. “If it’s not too much trouble. You know, the leg and all...”
“Oh, for—” Jayce’s voice floated from the kitchen, half-annoyed but not quite committed to intervening.
You sighed, setting down the napkins you’d been folding. “Yeah, sure. I’ve got it.”
But just as you crouched down, Viktor shifted. A casual tap of his cane sent the spoon skittering across the floor, its metallic clink faintly echoing as it landed farther away.
You froze, staring at the spoon in disbelief, then turned your gaze to him slowly. “You’re kidding.”
Viktor’s lips twitched, the faintest glimmer of amusement flickering across his face. “What?”
“You just—”
“What?” he repeated, wider-eyed this time, his free hand gesturing vaguely toward his cane. “I’m handicapped.”
Jayce reappeared in the doorway, a coffee pot in hand and a look of pure exasperation on his face. “Viktor.”
“What?” Viktor said again, his voice laced with mock indignation. “I am!”
Jayce muttered something unintelligible as he poured coffee, his focus shifting between you and Viktor like he couldn’t decide which one of you deserved his scolding more. Meanwhile, you straightened, crossing your arms as a grin tugged at the corners of your mouth despite your best efforts.
“You’re lucky I’m feeling generous,” you said, stepping across the room to retrieve the spoon—again.
“Very generous,” Viktor agreed, his tone breezy. “Honestly, it’s quite inspiring. Jayce, you should take notes.”
Jayce groaned, setting the coffee pot down with a little too much force. “You’re both ridiculous.”
But you were already laughing, the sound bubbling up before you could stop it. As you returned the spoon to the table with a pointed look, Viktor gave you a small, almost triumphant smile. And maybe, you could see what Jayce meant when he’d said you’d get along.
-
The first time you realized you might feel more than just friendship for Viktor was when you noticed the way your sketches had started to change.
It had been weeks—maybe even a couple of months—since that dinner with Jayce, when you had awkwardly danced around each other, getting to know one another. The initial weirdness had faded into easy companionship, and you found yourself spending more time with Viktor than you expected. You hadn’t quite noticed it happening, but somewhere along the line, you’d become an unintentional trio. Jayce had been bursting with barely-contained glee at how easily the two of you seemed to get along, and it made your chest warm, knowing how much that mattered to him. It felt... right, this newfound ease between the three of you, a quiet sort of harmony that made you smile more than you expected.
But as the days passed, something shifted without you realizing it. You were at home one evening, flipping through your sketchbook, the soft pastel dust smudging the edges of the pages as your fingers moved. The forms you’d drawn were abstract models, capturing shapes and shadows in a fluid, organic way. It wasn’t anything new—nothing that stood out. But then, you stopped.
There, in the shadows of the page, you saw it.
The subtle arch of a jawline. The curve of lips that you knew too well. Even the moles, small and almost unremarkable, but there they were—on the page, right beneath your fingertips. You blinked and flipped to another sketch, only to see it again. A line here, a shadow there. It wasn’t him exactly, but it was.
To the untrained eye, maybe it wouldn’t have been obvious. Hell, maybe even to you on any other day, it might’ve gone unnoticed. But now, in the quiet of your studio, the shapes were almost unmistakable. The soft angle of his nose, the way his eyes looked when he was thinking too hard, the way his smile would pull up on one side when he was being particularly smug.
You frowned, setting the sketchbook down, your hands hovering above it as if it had betrayed you. Was this some kind of coincidence? Or was it something more, something you had been avoiding realizing? You’d never consciously set out to draw him, but there he was, tucked into the lines and curves of your art like an uninvited guest you hadn’t known you were entertaining.
It was ridiculous, you told yourself. Of course it was just... coincidence. But even as you tried to convince yourself, there was a small, unspoken truth sitting in your chest, heavy and undeniable, and the first time you realized Viktor might see you as more than just a friend was subtle, almost imperceptible, but it hit you all the same.
He mentioned a piece you’d shown him, his tone thoughtful. “You’ve been doing something different lately. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but there’s a change. It’s...” His gaze flickered to yours, then dropped back to the floor, but the brief flash in his eyes sent an unexpected flutter through your chest. “...more. More than what you usually show.”
The words themselves were harmless, even complimentary, but it was the way they hung between you that made something inside you stir—something you couldn’t name, not yet. You didn’t think much of it at first, but the way his eyes lingered just a second longer than necessary made your breath catch. The way the corners of his mouth lifted into a half-smile, not teasing, but... fond.
It was a simple thing. A fleeting moment. And yet, it lingered in your mind as you retreated to your apartment, your thoughts whirling with the possibility that Viktor—your friend, the one you had so casually laughed and bantered with for months—might be seeing you differently, too.
The shift was subtle, but it was there. And it unsettled you more than you cared to admit.
-
Everything came to a boiling point one night at your apartment. You’d ventured into town earlier that day, mostly for a change of scenery, and happened upon a small farmers market. You couldn’t resist grabbing a few bottles of strawberry wine, its sweetness and fruity undertones practically calling your name. Jayce had scoffed at it when you got back, claiming it was too sugary to have any real punch. “There’s no way I’ll even get drunk off this,” he’d muttered with a dismissive wave.
An hour later, he was sprawled out on your pullout, snoring softly with a stupid grin plastered across his face. You and Viktor stood nearby, both trying—and failing—to suppress your amusement at how quickly Jayce had succumbed to the wine’s effects. For all his size, Jayce was a surprising lightweight.
“I swear, every time,” you said, laughing quietly.
Viktor, leaning against the doorway, gave a soft chuckle. “Some people just don’t know when to stop.”
You rolled your eyes, glancing over at the slumbering man. “Guess we let him sleep it off.”
“Let him have his beauty rest,” Viktor teased, his voice light as he nodded toward the bottles. “We can always finish it ourselves.”
So you did, winding up on the roof with the cold night air around you. The worn-out couch up there had seen better days, but it was still enough to settle into and talk, a simple quiet comfort settling over you both. The soft glow of string lights and the silvered moonlight made the world feel like it was wrapped in a quiet hush despite the never ending sounds of the city. You both settled into the couch, the cushions sinking in the middle, which pushed you just a little closer to Viktor than you'd anticipated.
For a moment, neither of you said anything. The silence was easy, like you had spent years in it. You noticed how close you were sitting now—your thighs pressed together, and when you passed the bottle of wine, your fingers brushed his. A small spark of awareness ran through you each time, and you tried to ignore it, feeling your face warm despite the cool air.
The wine was sweet, fruity, and a little stronger than you expected, especially when you found yourself reaching for another sip and another, the soft buzz in your head gradually growing stronger.
By the time the bottle was halfway gone, you were both leaning more heavily into the couch, and you couldn’t help but giggle at how little wine was apparently needed to bring Jayce to the brink of passing out. You felt... lighter. Almost giddy, as if the laughter that came so easily was spilling out along with the alcohol. And Viktor, sitting just beside you, didn’t seem to be immune to it either. His face was flushed in the soft light, his lips curling into an easy smile.
“You know,” you said, leaning back and feeling the warmth of the couch soak into your bones, “I don’t do this enough. I’m so... wrapped up in work and life and... I just forget to relax.”
Viktor tilted his head, eyes slightly narrowed as he watched you. “Relaxing can be overrated,” he said with a smirk, the words a little slower than they’d been earlier. He took another drink from the bottle, his thumb brushing against the glass in an unconscious rhythm. When he passed it to you, your fingers brushed once again, and you lingered just a bit longer than necessary.
“Well, maybe for you,” you chuckled. “But, for me, it’s like... it's like a luxury, I guess. You know? I don’t remember the last time I just sat with someone and... and didn’t feel like I had to be somewhere or do something.”
“You eh–... don’t have to worry about that here,” Viktor said quietly, his voice light, with that usual teasing edge. But something was different in his tone, something that made the words feel heavier than they should have been. You couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but the air seemed to shift, the quiet between you stretching into something almost… charged.
You took another sip, your hand a little unsteady now. The whole situation felt absurd—awkward, even, yet strangely intimate in a way you hadn’t expected. Your gaze drifted toward his lips without thinking. It was brief, but enough to send a flutter through your stomach, and suddenly, your mind couldn’t focus on anything but that soft, confident curve of his mouth. Maybe it was the wine, maybe it was something else entirely, but you couldn’t seem to think straight anymore.
Viktor shifted closer again, and the couch beneath you groaned as it sank with the weight of it. The space between you closed, and you could feel the warmth of his body pressing against yours shoulder to shoulder, like the alcohol spreading through you, making your pulse quicken.
For a long moment, he didn’t say anything. His presence was a solid thing beside you. His eyes were locked on yours, studying, but still so calm. You could feel the punch of his gaze on you, like it was seeping through your skin, sending heat rushing to your cheeks. It wasn’t just the wine now—you could feel it all over, heat blooming beneath your skin, making you fidget slightly.
“Sometimes… you get caught up in what you’re doing, and you forget about everything else,” you mumbled, trying to ignore the way your nerves were tightening your chest. “I’ve been focused on my career and—god, I’ve probably been a little… I don’t know, closed off.” You laughed lightly, but it was nervous, unsure of where this was even coming from. But suddenly all your senses were barraged by him, his smell, his eyes.
“I just—I haven’t thought about it. Relationships, I mean. Not in a long time. I don’t know if I’m even ready for anything like that. Not now, not with everything I’m doing.” You trailed off, self-conscious, suddenly feeling like you were saying too much, rambling without stopping. The words seemed to just slip out of you, tumbling over each other.
You took another shaky breath, your heart thudding in your chest as you tried to make yourself stop, but you couldn’t. It was like you were helpless.
“And, I mean, if anybody were to kiss me…” You faltered, realizing too late just how much you were giving away. Your pulse quickened, your thoughts jumbled as your mouth just kept moving. “I would want that person to be you.”
The air between you thickened, the silence stretching long and heavy. Your heart pounded in your chest, a nervous rhythm that drowned out everything else. You waited for him to say something, to break the tension that was suffocating you. But there was nothing. Just the weight of his gaze on you, steady and searching.
When you finally dared to glance at him Viktor's expression was unreadable. One thick eyebrow was cocked slightly, and his mouth hung open just enough to suggest he was about to say something, but didn't. He was so close but somehow the distance between you felt infinite.
You opened your mouth to say something, to fill the silence, but before you could speak, his hand moved, his fingers brushing against your jaw in the gentlest touch. The sudden warmth of his palm made your breath catch, and before you could even fully process it, he was pulling you in. His lips met yours, soft at first, as though testing the waters, as if the moment itself was delicate. But that softness didn't last, between the buzz of alcohol, the closeness, the heat between you—it all blurred together. The kiss deepened, quickly turning urgent, hungry. His hand moved to the back of your neck, pulling you closer as the bottle slipped from your grasp, its clang against the concrete floor echoing in the quiet of the rooftop
You didn't care. You were too lost in the feeling of him against you, his lips moving against yours with a desperate kind of need. The kiss grew messier– clumsy, teeth scraping, tongues tangling. You could taste the faint sweetness of wine on him, the mix of flavors making everything feel dizzying overwhelming.
You found yourself gripping his shirt, pulling him closer, as if trying to merge your bodies together, desperate for the contact, for whatever it was that had been building between you two for so long.
-
The next day was a harsh slap of hangover reality. Your head pounded, your mouth was dry, and every time you glanced at Viktor across the room, your stomach flipped in a way that had nothing to do with the booze.
Jayce, of course, was none the wiser. He chatted away over breakfast like nothing had changed, blissfully unaware of the shift that had unraveled everything you thought you’d had under control. And you? You were wholly committed to keeping it that way. It was a one-time thing, you told yourself. Just a fleeting, drunken thing—something you could both quietly bury and move on from.
At least, that was the plan.
Until it happened again. And then again.
Now it feels like a thread being pulled tighter and tighter, until you’re not sure if you’re going to unravel completely or snap under the weight.
This wasn’t supposed to happen. But here you are. And you don’t know how to stop.
©lilsworks 2024
#viktor x reader#viktor arcane#viktor#arcane#viktor x you#arcane x you#arcane fanfic#viktor fanfic#fwb#friends with benifits#viktor x y/n#arcane viktor#arcane fic#viktor fic#arcane x reader#lils work#mine#strawberry wine
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knowing better, twisted pleasure ☆ spencer reid
MDNI 18+ oral yay!!!, i love thinking about spencer with his head between my legs so here we are, overstim so “stop” is said once so keep that in mind ☆ title from killshot by magdalena bay, listen as you read if you want! spencer i can’t get enough of you please.
☆ ☆
it’s too much, you can’t. you can’t.
“spence— spence stop,” you plead as you squirm and your legs draw up in an attempt to get away from him. but he just won’t stop. unaffected, he slips his hands under your thighs and pulls you closer to his mouth, to where he wants you.
soft locks are enveloped in your hands as you card your fingers through them because even in your delirium, giving him affection is like breathing. your objections skate right over that pretty head of his and he keeps going, because he knows you don’t mean it. he knows that if he stops and rises back up to his knees, you’ll be begging him to “come back, please,” like you did that one time he felt really evil.
you gasp when you feel two fingers enter you, and you groan painedly when they begin to move, stroking maddeningly.
spencer’s too good at this, his fingers are too caring and precise inside you and his tongue is too soft and sweet as it laves over you. jesus, what the fuck.
it’s all so much, so much. a tortured, groveled moan rips from your chest as another sickly-sweet pang of feeling rocks through you. spencer’s commanding fingers tighten around your thighs, stacking yet another sensation on your already overwhelmed nervous system. human evolution, no matter how developed and perfected, was not made for this. it balks in the face of what spencer’s doing to you.
“oh my god— spence,” you whine, locking in on him through your blurry, teary eyes. between your legs, he looks unfortunately perfect, even as he shuts you down and lights you up all at the same time. you’ve got enough going on under your skin to power your whole block.
it’s lewd, how he looks so pretty eating you out. his messy brown hair and those melting golden eyes, and most disgustingly, his mouth hidden where his tongue flicks against your absolutely soaked center. the visual is art, though, the plane of his shoulders and his ever-expressive liquid hazel eyes flitting between closed and taking you in, in your beautiful ruin.
it’s in moments like these where spencer feels good. you’re explicitly, obscenely beautiful to him, and your pleasure is something he takes great pride in giving to you. as you lose yourself in it, sinking into the sticky pool of feeling, he gets to bear witness to it all.
“oh, baby,” you moan so warmly as he flattens his tongue and licks right over your clit. before, his tongue was quick and precise, but now he’s taken to loving you slowly, licking in a way that could only be called sensual. he hums as he runs his tongue over you again, so salacious, open-mouthed and he looks so dirty that you can’t fucking take it any more. again, your body does its best to protect you from feelings you can’t compute, but spencer does his best to make you take what you need more than air.
then, his fingers inside you focus on their goal, and he’s curling them familiarly and kissing that spot, rubbing it softly.
“yeah, fuck—,” is all you can scramble out before what’s been building up in you since he first settled between your legs explodes. if you didn’t know better, you’d think you’re exploding with how fucking much you feel. it should be humanly impossible to feel this way, but it’s not, because you’re feeling it here and now as your ears pop and your vision goes black and spencer just keeps fucking consuming you. he has the nerves to moan from between your legs, sending shockwaves through your already ravaged being.
eons pass. you travel through a thousand universes and sit upon a thousand suns before you come back to your Earth, with your spencer looking softly up at you, his head laying on one of your glossy thighs. as your senses slowly return to you, it seems he’s wiped his hand off on the sheets because the hand that’s rubbing the outside of your thigh is relatively dry, considering its previous position.
“you okay?” he asks warmly.
“fuck you,” you drag, croaky and unpolished.
he snorts.
“yeah, you’re okay,” he says through his laughing, unhooking his hand from under your trembling thigh as he rises up to hover over you. he kisses you, and just barely begrudgingly, you kiss him back.
“good?” he whispers over your lips. you wrap your arms over his neck as you both settle with each other.
“yeah,” you acquiesce lightly with a shrug and a tilt of your head, before you bring him down for another kiss.
#yay!!!!!!#spencer reid smut#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x black reader#spencer reid x fem!reader#mcondance 2024#— 🪽
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carpe noctem [ preface ] | sylus
— summary: whatever they have is cosmic. which is why you quietly bow out, thinking you never stood a chance. — cw: reader is not mc, assassin!reader, unrequited feelings, mentions of burned bodies, mentions of blood & injuries, jealousy, stream of conciousness, mdni — notes: shout out to @alfredosaws, @cheshireworld, and @midiplier for inspiring this! thank you for reading! here's a playlist to keep you entertained! edit: part 2 can be found here. — now playing: abracadabra - brown eyed girls
“Did you see that?!”
A smirk crooks your lips.
You watch the source of excitement in your periphery, her mirth infectious. You pat the space between her shoulder blades, the other hand stuffed in your pocket, pride swelling in your chest. The SUV eases into focus, a sleek outline of black, haloed by the sun’s deceptively innocent glow.
“I did.”
Her eyes brighten like stars shining in the inky night. She punches at the air—a reenactment of the moves she displayed during your scuffle inside the warehouse. It burns a pretty blend of orange and yellow behind, flames licking a cyan sky, smoke billowing from squealing metal. Carnage you left behind after a deal gone sour, structure and bodies turned to cinder, courtesy of one nefarious mafioso with a bomb fetish.
She flexes her bicep, fixing you with a grin that’s all canines. “I was pretty badass, huh?”
You quirk a brow, quietly giving her props.
A chuckle erupts from behind you both. You don’t look back. His presence is ever-looming. Imposing, towering over your shoulder, oozing smugness.
“Don’t get ahead of yourself, kitten.”
He says it to humble her. To keep her head from overinflating, but you don’t miss the affection surfing in the undercurrents of his voice. It always lives there when he chides her.
You can’t blame him. She’s come a long way: Ms. Hunter.
Initially, she feared being roped in with the lot of you. Rejected the lifestyle of doing very bad things to equally bad people. She eventually found her niche, and you unconsciously took her under your wing, treating her like something of a sibling—a friend.
You knew she wasn’t going anywhere any time soon. Sylus made that clear. Cryptic as ever, forcing her onto you, refusing to tell you everything. Only that she owed him a debt, and he brought her around to collect.
At first, you despised the arrangement. She was a thorn in your side, the bane of your existence. Her very presence threatened the hodgepodge life you constructed with your makeshift family—Luke, Kieran, Mephisto, Sylus.
She was too nice. Reckless. Too self-righteous, where you were calculative. A manipulator, a killer. Your hands dripped red while hers were delicate as orchid petals. But she had Sylus wrapped around her finger—a feat you struggled to conquer for years. The man was playing Kitty Cards and sneaking plushies into the manor, for crying out loud. Besides, you couldn’t deny how she squirmed her way through the fissures of your own heart, nestling between atriums and ventricles like she’d always belonged there.
You found yourself quietly rooting for them—your big, bad wolf of a boss and his precious little lamb. The affection blooming between them was palpable, like datura petals drifting in an errant breeze. Though an official title never revealed itself to you, you sensed whatever bond they shared was cosmic. Something you couldn’t touch or disrupt no matter how hard you tried. So you wordlessly conceded, bowing out of a competition you constructed in your mind.
You were content with protecting her. Showing her the ropes, knowing in the back of your mind she would one day replace you. You were slowly becoming old news, no longer the center of Sylus’ orbit. It was fitful, but it was nice to see him smile like that for a change. To see this side of him, smitten with his defenses buried beneath the rubble, and you supposed that was enough for you.
At least this way, you could remain by his side. Fulfill your own obligations, continuing to serve him, even if it means watching the world you’ve grown so accustomed to slowly fall away from your feet.
“You did a good job,” you say, disrupting the slurry of your thoughts, a fond hand ruffling her hair, eyes creased at the corners.
You usher the hunter into the passenger seat of the SUV. She’s still buzzing in the aftermath of your fight as you shut the door, a chuckle roiling in your chest. You turn to ease into the backseat, but Sylus is there, wearing that customary smirk, holding the rear door open for you instead.
“You both did well.”
The look you toss at him is suspicious. Raised brows and a sardonic curve to your lips. There’s more to his praise than he lets on, handing it out like a rare bouquet, usually reserved for her. Sylus merely shrugs, feigning innocence, his intentions shielded behind dark lenses. You ease into the chilled leather seat, the swell of noise from the fire traded for Ms. Hunter animatedly recounting the day’s events when the door shuts beside you.
You lapse into monotony, watching plumes of smoke fade in the rearview mirror as the three of you ease onto the highway. Sylus’ hand is tight on the steering wheel. Long, spindly fingers wrapped around coarse leather. His voice is bold like black coffee, warming your innards on a wintry day, as he and Ms. Hunter exchange words you can’t be bothered to follow up front. Occasionally, scarlet eyes catch yours in the mirror. It’s as if he’s keeping tabs on you, ensuring you’re still here. Like you’re poised to tuck and roll out the backseat, driven by how comfortably they speak with each other.
Physically, you’re present. Mentally, you’re drifting off. Watching power lines skate by, blurring with the skyline and mountains as the vehicle slides downhill. Maybe you’re more exhausted than you initially thought. You’d taken a hit or two in the fray earlier. Have blood speckling the ivory collar of your shirt, a scrape lining your jaw, and you’re sure you’ll have pretty splotches of blue and purple staining the corner of your mouth come tomorrow.
Pain is usually an afterthought. You’re so used to shielding, so accustomed to recklessly throwing your body around, and the adrenaline’s ebbing, making way for the dull throb of a migraine and sleepiness dangling like sandbags from your upper lids. You lean against the door, propped on your elbow, temple roosted on swollen knuckles. You blink slowly, your heart beating steady until the scenery beyond the window makes way for darkness. You won’t be at the hotel for another hour. A little catnap won’t hurt.
Before you fully relinquish yourself to the pretty girls of sleep, an enthusiastic voice peels through the inkiness. Static against a violet backdrop, tugging a quiet smile onto your lips. Ms. Hunter.
“We should celebrate!”
We should, you muse, sinking below the shadowy depths of sleep, lured there by the bumping of the SUV against the road and Sylus fondly teasing the source of your envy.
masterlist | conflict
#sylus x reader#sylus x you#sylus angst#tumblr why are you hiding me from the tags#carpe noctem series#limerence series
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Sevika doesn’t like to be touched.
When she’d visit the girls at Babette’s, they were all strictly informed not to touch her. “Don’t try to take off her clothes, don’t touch her face. Let her lead YOU.” she’d say.
But when you’re walking through the city together, her head is always on a swivel. She’ll do a few routine passes to anticipate any oncoming trouble, but her sight always lands on you—making sure you’re no more than three paces behind her. And if you are, she won’t hesitate to drag you back to her side with a firm “Keep up.”
Sevika doesn’t like to be touched.
There was a time when she and the gang were basking in the earrings of the latest shimmer sales at The Drop. One of the goons laughed at a sarcastic remark she had made, so hard that he hit her on the back. The whole room went silent…the next thing you knew, he was walking around for at least a week with his hand wrapped up. When you asked him what had happened he said “I laughed…I just laughed.”
It reminded you of a time when the two of you were alone at The Drop, everyone else was deployed. You were tidying up around the bar while Sevika played herself in cards. She said something to you, but when you looked her way all you could focus on was the gray ash that coated her sideburn.
“How did you get ashes in your hair? Maybe you do need to quit smoking. You’re so messy sometimes.” You giggled as you wiped her clean, relishing in how soft her strands were under your fingers, tucking in the few pieces that had flown away behind her ear.
You’d gone back to sweeping, and when she didn’t respond to your question, you looked over only to see her beet red, face buried in her cards. She was clutching them so tight with her organic hand that they were all cinched like hour glasses—the whole stack!
Sevika doesn’t like to be touched.
She’s never plagued you for the type to like hugs, she doesn’t shake hands when she meets with the chembarons or councilors, and the girls at Babbette’s have called her a “Stone Top” on many occasions…
But sometimes, if it’s been a really strenuous day, she’ll come to you and whisper a “Come to mine tonight.” She’ll have a spare set of clothes for you to wear, candles lit all over her apartment, and low music playing. She won’t speak much, if at all (not that she needs to you already know the drill), she’ll just lay back in bed and pat her lap.
When you straddle her, she’ll let you bury your face in her neck, she likes the tickle that runs down her back with your every breath. She’ll let you sit on top of her for what feels like hours, the weight of your body makes her feel warm and grounded. And sometimes, she’ll wrap her arms around your middle, or squeeze your thighs—cause she can’t rest if she doesn’t feel like you’re safe right under her fingertips.
Sevika doesn’t like to be touched, unless it’s by you.
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𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐇𝐞𝐥𝐥
Sukuna
Pairing: Sukuna x f!Reader
Summary: Sukuna's twins are miniature versions of himself which can only mean one thing: they're two little demons.
Warnings: MDNI, family content, fluff(?), dad!Sukuna, smut, oral sex (m. receiving), titjob, nipple play
Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi
Sukuna had to change a lot of things in his life when his twins came along. The man that never imagined he’d become a father, was lucky enough to knock up his girlfriend. Or wife, whatever he gets to call you now. One very unlucky lucky night he decided that protection was a stupid idea, but the universe got back at him to teach him a life lesson, and you ended up pregnant with two– Not one, but two babies.
Sure, Sukuna loves his babies and all that shit which made it easier for him to change into a better person. He’s not a stellar parent or anything, and during the first year of their life he was struggling to figure it out but the job has gotten easier. He’d argue that the job is fun too, seeing the little shits form their own personalities or whatever is interesting.
Though one could say that it’s only fun for Sukuna since the kids are turning out just like their father. For you, on the other hand, it is stressful. Having two children screaming just like their father isn’t exactly fun, not when you have to correct them. It was hilarious to watch Sukuna teach his nephew cuss words for the little guy to run around, yelling the atrocities (nearly giving his father a heart attack); it’s not fun when you’re in the mother’s shoes.
“Fuck you-” “We don’t say that around here!” “Daddy says it!”
“Motherfucker!” “Watch your mouth!” “Daddy told me I can say it!”
It’s a never-ending correction in your home, and it doesn’t help that your husband doesn’t help you out. Sukuna kind of does his part by watching his mouth around the pair, but that’s not enough anymore. They’re almost six, it’s too late for them to unlearn certain words… or other behaviors.
“Stop arguing you two!” You yell from the kitchen, hearing them bicker about something. They’re always arguing because one is mean to the other. Sukuna’s genes are too strong. Luckily for you, you were blessed with a girl and a boy so you don’t have to try again for another baby. You won’t have to repeat this.
“Ugly bastard!” Akane, your baby girl, yells. And you wish it was a moment where you got to think if you heard wrong because your baby girl would never say that, but she would. This one says it nearly daily.
“Akane, if I hear one more word out of you, girl! I swear–” You’re cut off by your husband, startling you as he hugs you from behind. He’s not listening, or well, he is and he doesn’t want you to correct the girl.
“Aren’t you just so proud of her?” He sounds elated, knowing his daughter sounds just like him. If only you could share that sentiment. You push him away and focus on finishing lunch for the little rascals.
“My girl friends invited me out, and guess what? You’re taking over tonight.” You tell him, and Sukuna’s eyes widen. You’ve never made that threat before– Usually when you go out, you take them along or drop them off at someone else’s place because you doubt Sukuna can handle them. The longest they’ve been alone has been an hour.
“Someone will end up getting stabbed.” Is his answer, hoping that it’s enough to scare you into staying. Sukuna loves his babies, but he knows he can’t handle them. He made a grave mistake by molding them into mini versions of himself. Sukuna can’t control himself, how is he able to control two small Sukunas?
“And it’s probably going to be you if you don’t play your cards right. Good luck.” You answer, making it clear that you’re not staying home no matter what. You don’t acknowledge Sukuna as he begins to tell you the horrific sights that you might come home to. Sure, your kids are rowdy and a lot like their father but they won’t burn the house down… if you hide the matches.
“Akira! Akane! Come here!” You ignore him, calling your kids for their lunch. Sukuna sighs, rolling his eyes.
They can’t be too bad…
“Hold his legs!” Akane yells to her brother while she pulls Sukuna’s hair. He doesn’t know what happened, he just fell asleep on the couch and woke up to his arms being restrained while one twin wipes something on his face.
“What the fuck are you two doing?!” Sukuna raises his voice, rightfully so considering the position he’s in right now. He was warned, yet chose not to listen. Sukuna could kick the little shit that’s trying to tie him together but he won’t in fear that he might be too harsh and send the kid to the hospital. Oh, he hates them so much right now but any other time he’s willing to give up his life for them.
“We’re just playing.” Akira answers, and Sukuna could strangle one of the twins right at this moment– Too bad his hands are tied. How is this playing? Are they simulating a kidnapping or what?
“Untie me, now!” He orders, but his words go in one ear and out the other. He’s not mommy, he’s not uptight and lets them do whatever so this must be a joke.
“Quick, grab mommy’s makeup!” Akane yells, and Sukuna clenches his jaw. He’s trying to free himself, but they got him good. He needs to check what the kids are watching from now on because this is worrying for him.
“Akane, let me go before I get angry.” Sukuna threatens, but what can he possibly do when he’s tied up?
“I got it!” Her twin comes into the living room with your makeup bag. Sukuna is squirming, trying his best to break free from his confinement but he can’t. Did they catch him while he was tying you up or what? No… He remembers locking the door.
“If you two don’t let me free in this instant, I’ll make you pay!” Sukuna sounds intimidating, clearly angry at this little stunt. Unfortunately for him, they don’t take him seriously. They fear no one.
“You sound funny.” Akane laughs before pulling on his hair, which makes a cry escape his lips. Oh, he’d love this father thing if they were like you. This whole thing is getting annoying, but not only for him; the pair is getting tired of hearing their father cry and scream. “Akira, grab the tape, daddy is getting annoying.”
“What the fuck are you going to do?! I am your father, you two have to listen to me!” Sukuna is trying his best to break free before the twins tape his mouth and end up killing him. And by some miracle, just as they get their hands on the tape, the front door opens.
He prays that it’s you, ready to save him from the twins’ evil plan. It’s not you, but the next best thing. Sukuna doesn’t waste a second before yelling, “Jin! Stop them before they kill me!”
“What’s happening here?” His brother looks around confused. What did he just walk in on? He got a text from you to check in on his brother since Sukuna would be alone with the twins… and this happens. He sees his beloved nephew walk back with a roll of tape, and Jin picks him up from the ground. “What are you two doing to your dad?”
“They’re trying to kill me!” Sukuna yells, which the twins argue,
“We’re just playing!” Which makes a chuckle come from Jin. It isn’t funny– Well, maybe just a bit. It’s hilarious to see Sukuna get a taste of his own medicine.
“Now, you two, let your dad go.” Jin says, and at that moment they huff and puff. But they listen. He’s watching Sukuna’s expressions, and he stops the twins before they completely free him. “Stop. Go to your rooms.”
“What?! Don’t–” Before Sukuna can finish yelling, they’ve run away. They aren’t going to listen to him. Once they’re out of sight, Jin frees Sukuna and holds the man down, not trusting him enough to let him go.
“You’re not going to do anything to them, right?” Jin sounds as if he were Sukuna’s dad, which only pisses the man off more.
“The fuck am I going to do to them? I didn’t kick the little shit when he was tying my legs because I didn’t want to hurt him.” Sukuna makes a great point, but Jin wasn’t there to witness it. Right now he sees an angry man, and he wants to make sure Sukuna calms down before anything. “Why the hell are you here anyway?”
“Your wife called me to check up on you, and I came just in time.” Jin answers, sitting down beside Sukuna once he knows that his brother is calm enough. Sukuna wants to be mad at you for not trusting him enough to watch his own kids, but he also wants to thank you for saving him tonight.
“Don’t tell her what you saw.” Sukuna quickly says. It’s more of a warning than a request. Sukuna takes a deep breath. He should be asking what the kids were going to do to him– It wasn’t going to be anything too bad, probably just put on some makeup on him or some other stupid trick. They knew he was going to say no if he asked, so they chose to tie him up. The thought isn’t too far fetched considering who their father is. What he’s thinking right now is,
“Why would they listen to you and not me?” Sukuna wonders, and Jin has an idea as to why. “I mean I’m terrifying, but you? You look like you catch jellyfish with a net and work at the Krusty Krab.”
“Ah, they’re into Spongebob now.” Jin can’t help but laugh. He won’t take the insults to heart since this has always been Sukuna. “I feel like they do find you scary, they just don’t think that you’ll do anything to them if they torment you.”
“What the fuck are you saying?” Sukuna isn’t in the mood for this. He can’t just wrap his head around this whole situation.
“You let them get away with a lot when it comes to you. You don’t let them get away with anything when it comes to their mother or other family.” Jin explains, which is valid reasoning but Sukuna rolls his eyes. That isn’t the answer he’s looking for, therefore he won’t accept it.
“Whatever you say. I’m going to check up on them before they flood the house.” Sukuna stands up from his seat, leaving his brother behind. The twins can’t be trusted for too long.
Lo and behold, they found the matches.
“You two came into my life as karma, huh?” Sukuna asks, before taking the matches from their grimy hands. “Akane, go annoy your uncle. Akira, you’re getting a bath and that’s final.”
“I thought you said I could bathe only once a week.” Akira points out the agreement they’ve had, but Sukuna has changed his mind.
“I changed my mind when you and your sister did a kidnapping simulation with me. Plus, your mother says you stink and she doesn’t like you anymore so go to the tub.” Sukuna is not scared of making a little white lie to hurt his son’s feelings. It’s the least he could do.
“Mommy doesn’t what?” Akira’s eyes become watery, his bottom lip quivering at the thought of his mother not loving him anymore. Sukuna would feel a twinge of remorse any other night.
“He’s lying, bubba.” Akane goes to his brother’s side to comfort him. She might be a little devil, but she has her soft spot. She hugs him tightly and Sukuna has to tear his eyes away from the sickly sweet scene. They won’t get to him. “You do stink but mommy loves you. She told us she loved us before leaving.”
“A lie she told you since she’s not coming back because you stink.” Sukuna isn’t going to stop, even when he hears his son cry. The boy pushes his sister away and runs to the bathroom to wash himself to make his mother come back. Hearing his own son cry is tough, but he’ll pat himself on the back later.
“You’re next. Now go to your uncle, ask about Yuji or some shit.” Sukuna looks at his daughter, who is more resilient than her brother. She’s only five though, so he can find a way to get through to her with no issue. “Your birthday is coming up soon, huh? Guess I’ll–”
“I’m going!” She yells before Sukuna can finish his sentence, making a smirk come to his face. Smart girl.
He can handle them for the rest of the night, especially with Jin here.
When you come home, your little demons are sound asleep in their bedroom. You tuck them in, and admire the sight that you never see during the day. They almost look like they were sent straight from heaven. It’s a nice sight to come home too.
Your opinion changes when you enter your bedroom and find your husband throwing his clothes into a suitcase. You’ve noticed that over the past years he’s become increasingly dramatic. You let your presence be known as a chuckle escapes your lips, standing in the doorway.
“Is it because they tied you up?” You question, and a frown comes to his lips.
“I told Jin to not tell you. But yes.” He answers, and you step into the room. You shut the door behind you, locking the door just in case things escalate. “They don’t take me seriously, and I told you things wouldn’t go well if you left me alone with them but there you go, going out with your friends.”
“I can’t stay locked up forever taking care of them.” You respond, and he rolls his eyes.
“Leave them with Jin. They take him seriously.” Sukuna says, and you chuckle.
“Unpack your stuff, baby. Stop being so dramatic.” You tell him, heading over to the bathroom to get ready for bed. That’s not enough for him right now though.
“I’m leaving and never coming back.” Sukuna sounds like a child, which is hilarious. Only those two can get that side out of him. He’ll continue no matter what you say, so you do the next best thing. You lift up your shirt, and his eyes widen for a moment before he tears them away.
“Your boobs aren’t going to work this time.” He claims, and you fix your shirt. He sucks his bottom lip between his teeth before sighing, “But they do help.”
“Come here, baby.” You walk over to him, wrapping your arms around him. Sukuna hugs you back, and he could sob (just for the dramatics).
“They’re so mean.” Sukuna’s head rests on your shoulder, as his hand travels under your shirt to squeeze your boob. “Can you make me feel better?”
“Can you–” You begin but before you can even finish, Sukuna pulls away and throws the suitcase on the ground. He’ll unpack later. You open your mouth to speak again but he grabs the back of your head and pulls you into a rough kiss.
His tongue wanders around your mouth, his free hand going under your shirt once again. It’s an old trick, but every time you show him your breasts, he forgets anything and everything. You don’t do it when the matter is a serious issue, but you really can’t do much about the fact that your twins are straight from hell.
Sukuna sits down on the bed, lifting up your shirt, prompting you to take it off. Once it’s out of the way, his tongue licks up your body before giving your tits attention. He rolls his tongue around your nipple while his hand plays with the other one, pinching your nipple and squeezing your boob. You really get him, knowing the exact way to get him to calm down. He pulls away, and kisses between your breasts until he gets to the other tit. He switches to your other tit and entertains himself once again.
He’s having so much fun, his mouth preoccupied with you but there’s an uncomfortable sensation between his pants. He unlatches, looking up at you with lustful eyes. Your gaze falls on the tent in his pants, making you bite down your lip.
“Help me out.” He says, and you help him unbuckle out. You pull down his pants, freeing his cock from its confinement. You kneel down in front of him, a smirk on your lips. This is a great way to apologize.
You spit on his cock before your hand wraps around the base. You lower your head, tongue circling around the tip as your hand strokes his dick. You start off so painfully slow, too painful for Sukuna. You lower your head, taking as much of his dick as you can.
You slowly bob your head, hands wrapping around the park of his cock that is outside and stroking it for him. It’s like heaven for him, though he just wants to push your head down and force you to take all of his cock. You can take it like a good girl, right? He won’t take any risks tonight.
“You can take it all.” You lift your head, and Sukuna whines. You were barely even doing anything, why did you feel the need to stop? A spark appears on his eyes, a smirk coming to his face as you cup your tits. He judged too soon.
You put his cock between your chest, squeezing your cleavage together before moving it up and down his dick. Sukuna’s eyes nearly roll to the back of his head at the feeling of your tits squeezing around him. He grabs the back of your head, pulling back and telling you, “Open your fucking mouth.”
And without missing a beat, you obey, sticking your tongue out. He spits in your mouth, and you swallow immediately. This is the reason why you ended up with twins– You just do shit that makes him feel every inch of your body raw, a need. You’re so obedient and generous with him.
Your soft flesh between his cock is too much for him, and such a nice sight as he watches them jiggle. You should do this more often is all that he can think as your hands pick up speed. He’s rolling his hips, lightly moaning as his breath gets heavy.
“Good job.” You hear, which tells you all that you need to know. He barely praises you unless he’s close.
“Cum for me, baby. Do it all over my tits.” You tell him, and he bites down his lips to not sound pathetic. Oh, he has to control himself tonight because you might end up with another child. He can’t have that.
His hands grip the bed sheets as he finishes all over you. His cum covers your chest, all the way up to your neck. Your fingers swipes it, bringing it up to your lips simply for his entertainment, but he’s looking for something else in the nightstand.
He could die right now.
“Ran out of condoms, and I’m not risking anything.” He’s in so much pain as the words leave his lips, and you furrow your brows. Since when has this been an issue?
“You can pull out.” You remind him, but that isn’t cutting it for Sukuna.
“I said I’m not risking anything.” He couldn’t make it any clearer. Tonight was certainly… An experience to say the least.
“Can you at least eat me out?” You ask him, standing up from the ground. There’s no way you’re going unrewarded tonight.
“You have a vibrator, work it out.” He shrugs, and you glare at him. He’s pissed off with you again, leaving him with the twins was a horrible mistake on your part.
“You’re such a jerk.” You roll your eyes at him, and hearing him chuckle makes you want to hit him. You manage to restrain yourself, managing to mutter out a simple, “Fuck you.”
“Aw, they get it from you. How cute.” He says, which makes your palm lightly slap his forehead. “Hey! Maybe next time don’t leave me alone–”
“The vibrator is going to do a better job than you anyway.” You cut him off, going to the bathroom to clean yourself up… Getting all dirty and for what?
“If you really want another pair, I’ll give them to you.” Sukuna stands up, following behind you to annoy you.
“Get a fucking vasectomy.” You respond, and you feel his arms wrap around you, stopping you from going any further. Of course he can’t leave you alone. “Sukuna, I’m going to shower.”
“I’ll help you.”
#ryomen sukuna#sukuna x reader#sukuna#sukuna ryomen#jujutsu kaisen sukuna#jjk sukuna#sukuna smut#jujutsu sukuna#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#ryomen sukuna x reader#sukuna x you#sukuna x y/n#ryoumen sukuna#ryomen sukuna x you#sukuna ryoumen smut#sukuna x reader smut
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Fatal Attraction
pairing— The Salesman x Recruiter!Reader
summary— You and the Salesman share an undeniable attraction that’s filled with playful banter and sexual chemistry, despite the risks of being involved as recruiters for the Squid Game. It eventually boils over in a way you didn’t expect. based on this request.
warnings— sexual tension, flirting, jealousy, switch!salesman, manipulation, groping, slight voyeurism, thigh riding, praise kink.
a/n— part 2?🤭
Part II
The evening air was cloudy as the city hummed around you. Dressed in a chic black dress that hugged your figure and a pair of sleek red bottom heels, you walked through the dimly lit streets with an air of effortless confidence. Your black curls cascaded over your shoulders, catching the light as you moved, each step commanding attention. The world around you seemed to part as men turned their heads, unable to resist the allure you exuded.
You smirked, feeling the eyes on you. Most of the time, you didn’t need to say a word. They came to you. A flirtatious smile was all it took, and you knew that by the time they left, they'd be clutching the game card in their hands, their minds already made up. It was easy, really. Your beauty and charm were weapons, subtle but deadly, and you wielded them with precision. It was no wonder they hired you.
Behind you, the Salesman was watching. His gaze followed you, a mix of admiration and something else, something darker? He’d always been fascinated by you, but you knew he wouldn’t admit it. His competitive streak ran deep, and that was what made the dynamic between the two of you so—interesting. You had a way of making him lose focus, just for a moment, and he hated how much he liked it.
“Are you always this distracting?” he asked. He stepped closer, his presence almost predatory as you felt his eyes linger on you for too long.
“I could ask you the same thing,” you teased.
He narrowed his eyes, clearly annoyed but intrigued at the same time. “You're making it hard for me to concentrate,” he said.
You leaned in just enough to feel the heat between you, brushing past him sultry, making sure to brush your ass against hun. “Well,” you said, your voice a whisper, “maybe you just need to focus more.”
The way his jaw tightened gave you a little thrill. He wasn’t used to being the one distracted, but there you were, effortlessly captivating him. He hated that you had this power over him, but at the same time, it only fueled his need to be around you.
As you approached a group of lower class men, you effortlessly captured their attention, your words emphasized as you explained the game to them, each one of them hanging on your every word. They didn’t even care about the money anymore, they were entranced by you, by the way you spoke, the way you looked, the way your eyes sparkled with mystery.
You glanced over your shoulder, catching the Salesman’s narrowed eyes. There was a flicker of jealousy there, and you smiled to yourself. He was usually so composed, so in control, but when it came to you, it was clear he was a little off balance.
As you handed the last card to a willing participant, you turned back toward him, catching frustration in his eyes. “You’re still looking at my ass,” you noted. “Is there something you want to say?”
His eyes flickered to yours, something passing between you, but instead of responding immediately, he took a step closer, cornering you against a nearby wall. His lips were so close to yours that you could feel his breath on your skin, and for a moment, the world around you both seemed to fade away.
“We need to focus,” you said, your voice a mix of teasing and determination. You could feel his body heat radiating against yours, and for just a second, you almost let go. But the chemistry between you two was a game of its own, one you weren’t ready to lose yet.
His lips hovered inches from yours, but you moved away just in time, leaving him wanting more, the silent promise of what could be lingering in the air between you. You walked away, leaving him there, caught between frustration and fascination.
“You’re impossible,” he muttered, but there was a smile at his lips. He couldn’t stay mad at you for long.
“You love it,” you called over your shoulder with a wink, and he couldn’t argue with that.
The bustling subway platform crowded, filled with footsteps, idle chatter, and the occasional rumble of an approaching train. You stood poised, elegant as ever while the Salesman stood nearby, his briefcase in hand and his usual smirk in place, but even he couldn't deny that all eyes were on you.
“You’re making this too easy,” he said, his voice laced with amusement as he watched another man approach you, drawn in like a moth to a flame.
“Not my fault I have—certain advantages,” you replied, letting your hand drift over your tits for just a moment before returning to the man who had approached you.
The man stammered as you handed him a game card, your voice smooth as you explained the rules. He barely registered the words, too mesmerized by the way you leaned in just enough to catch his attention.
From the corner of your eye, you saw the Salesman watching, his expression a mixture of pride and annoyance.
“You’re going to spoil them,” he muttered under his breath as the man walked away, clutching the card like it was a love letter.
“Jealous?”
“Hardly,” he shot back, but the way his jaw tightened said otherwise.
As you moved through the station, you approached another potential recruit, a man sitting on a bench, his head in his hands. His clothes were old, his expression weary. You softened your approach, sitting beside him with a look of genuine concern.
“I couldn’t help but notice you look like you could use a fresh start,” you began, your voice gentle.
The man looked up, startled by your presence. His eyes widened as he took in your appearance, clearly caught off guard.
“It’s not easy, is it?” you continued, your tone having fake empathy. “But I can offer you something better. A chance to turn things around.”
By the time you handed him the card, the man was nodding eagerly, his despair replaced by a spark of hope.
The Salesman watched from a distance, shaking his head in disbelief. “You’re a witch,” he said when you returned to his side. “The way you manipulate people—it’s almost unfair.”
“Takes one to know one,” you said smiling.
Later that evening, the two of you stood in a crowded peak, each of you scanning the crowd for potential players. He approached a group of men, his signature ddakji tiles in hand. “Care for a game?” he offered, his tone inviting.
The men glanced at him, then at you, their interest shifting immediately.
“Actually, we’d rather play with her,” one of them said, his gaze fixed on you.
You smirked, stepping closer to the Salesman and leaning in just enough to make him flinch. “Looks like you’ve got competition,” you whispered.
“Careful, or I might start charging for your services,” he retorted.
As the men prepared to play, you caught the Salesman watching you again. You met his gaze, your lips curving into a sly smile. Then, almost unknowingly, you bit your bottom lip, letting the subtle action hang heavy in the air.
His eyes darkened, his composure slipping for just a moment before you stepped away, leaving him standing there, frustrated and wanting more.
During one particularly tense recruitment, a man you’d just handed a card to glanced between you and the Salesman, frowning. “You two, you should really sort out whatever this is,” he said, gesturing between you.
Without missing a beat, you turned to him. “What you need to sort out is that broke issue you have,”you retorted, leaving him sputtering as you walked away.
“You’re ruthless,” the Salesman laughed, shaking his head.
“And you love it,” you shot back, not even bothering to deny it.
As the night wore on, the two of you found yourselves alone again, leaning against a railing overlooking the city. He leaned in, his face inches from yours, his hand brushing against your arm. For a moment, it seemed like he might close the distance, but you stepped back, breaking the spell.
“Back up,” you snapped.
He let out a breath, running a hand through his hair. “One day, you’re not going to walk away,” he said.
You smiled, turning away as your curls bounced with each step. “Good luck with that,” you called over your shoulder, leaving him to brew in his frustration once again.
Another evening at the busy train station, you and the Salesman stood on opposite sides of the platform, each scanning for potential recruits. You caught his eye briefly before a man in a tattered suit approached you. He didn’t hesitate to ask your name, his interest plain.
The Salesman watched from a distance as you gave the man a coy smile, tilting your head to send the perfect signal. The man eagerly accepted the card you handed him, and even after walking away, he kept glancing back at you.
“Showing off again?” the Salesman said as he finally approached.
“Not my fault,” you said with a shrug. “They just come to me.”
“They should try not flirting with you for once,” he muttered, his jaw tightening as his gaze darted to the men still watching you.
“You’re cute when you’re jealous,” you laughed softly, leaning in for him to smell your perfume.
Later that night, the two of you walked back to the car after another successful round of recruitment. He was unusually quiet as you strolled under the streetlights, the faint sound of your heels breaking the silence.
“What’s on your mind?” you asked, glancing up at him.
He hesitated, then said, “I was just thinking, how do you do it?”
“Do what?”
He stopped walking and turned to face you. “Get everyone to fall at your feet like that.”
You tilted your head, a small smile on your lips. “It’s a gift. But don’t worry, you’re not immune.”
He shook his head, his smirk returning.
During one recruitment night, you and the Salesman found yourselves at a lounge. You moved effortlessly through the room, drawing attention without even trying. At the bar, a man offered to buy you a drink, and you accepted with a polite smile, leaning in to keep him hooked.
From across the room, the Salesman watched, his jaw clenching when the man leaned closer to whisper something in your ear. You laughed lightly, slipping the card into the man’s jacket pocket before walking away.
When you rejoined the Salesman, he raised an eyebrow. “Enjoy yourself?”
“Totally,” you replied, sipping the drink you had brought back with you.
“Next time, I’ll be the one buying you a drink,” He leaned in, his voice low.
You looked up at him, your lips curving into a playful smile. “If you’re lucky.”
One late night, as you were reviewing the day’s ‘victims’, a playful argument broke out between you two.
“You only got that guy at the park because I wasn’t there,” he teased, leaning against the table.
“Oh, please,” you shot back, crossing your arms. “He wouldn’t have looked at your ass twice.”
“Care to bet on that?”
You met his gaze, unfazed. “Fine. Loser buys dinner.”
“Deal.”
As he turned to leave, you called after him, “You should practice your flirting first. Wouldn’t want you to embarrass yourself.”
Another evening you stood on the busy street corner, your black dress and signature heels drawing stares as usual. A potential recruit leaned lazily against a lamppost, his attitude immediately grating.
“You think I’m fucking stupid enough to fall for this?” he sneered, flicking the card you handed him back toward you. His tone was sharp, his words laced with anger.
Your smile tightened, but you didn’t break your composure. “I wouldn’t say stupid, but if the shoe fits—”
The man stepped closer, his expression darkening. “Listen, woman, don’t test me. You think your little tricks work on everyone?”
Before you could respond, the Salesman appeared at your side, his eyes narrowing as he sized up the man. Without warning, his fist connected with the man’s jaw, sending him falling backward. The man scrambled to his feet, muttering curses as he stumbled away.
“You didn’t have to do that.”
“It’s my job to make sure you’re safe,” he replied firmly, his voice softer now as his eyes stayed on yours.
For the first time, you faltered. His protectiveness caught you off guard, leaving you unsure of what to say.
He cleared his throat, breaking the silence. “How about dinner?”
“Sure, what the hell.”
The restaurant was cozy and dimly lit, a bit romantic. You sat across from him, sipping your wine as laughter filled your small talk. For the first time, the banter felt easy, natural.
The waitress arrived to refill your drinks and smiled warmly at the two of you. “You two make a great couple,” she said.
You opened your mouth to correct her, but the Salesman beat you to it. “Yes, we do,” he said, his grin almost asking you to challenge him.
You shot him a look, your eyebrow arching. He just shrugged, clearly enjoying himself.
As the meal continued, you slipped off your Louis Vuittons under the table, your stocking clad foot gliding toward him. You made contact with his leg first, and when he didn’t react, you moved higher.
His fork clattered against his plate when your toes brushed against his cock. He coughed, his eyes darting to yours.
“Careful,” you said, tilting your head innocently.
“What—what are you doing?” he stammered.
“What do you mean?” you asked, as if you had no idea what he was talking about.
His jaw clenched as he tried to maintain his composure, but you could see the cracks forming. “Act normal,” you murmured softly, your foot still teasing his cock. “Wouldn’t want anyone to know what we’re doing.”
He nodded stiffly, attempting to make small talk, but his sentences came out broken and stuttered. You held back a laugh, savoring his discomfort.
By the time the meal ended, you had stopped, sitting back in your chair and putting your heels back on with a satisfied smirk as he paid the bill.
The drive back to your apartment was quiet, but the air between you was filled with more tension than usual. You placed your hand on his thigh, rubbing lightly as he gripped the steering wheel tightly.
“Why are you so tense?” you asked.
“Don’t act dumb,” he muttered, his voice strained.
You giggled, sliding your hand higher until you reached his bulge. His sharp inhale didn’t go unnoticed, and you leaned back in your seat, thoroughly enjoying yourself.
When you finally reached your apartment, he followed you inside, closing the door behind him. Before you could take another step, he spun you around and pressed you against the door, his hands braced on either side of your head.
His face was close to yours, his breath warm against your skin. “I’m sick of your games,” he growled. “It doesn’t matter what happens out there. In here, I’m in control.”
You bit your lip, your pulse quickening. “Yes, sir,” you murmured, your voice teasing.
That was all it took for his restraint to snap.
His lips crashed against yours. It was magnetic, a clash of sexual tension and pent up frustration. His hands framed your face as if you were going to slip away. Your arms went around his neck instinctively, drawing him closer. The world outside the apartment ceased to exist. His lips moved with a ferocity that made you forget every rule you were breaking.
Before you could even catch your breath, he lifted you effortlessly, his hands firm on your thighs as he carried you through the dimly lit apartment. His strength, his control, sent something through you. He didn’t hesitate, pushing open the door to the bedroom with his shoulder, and setting you down in his lap as he sank onto the edge of the bed.
You slowly began grinding on him, his hands moved to your waist, guiding you instinctively. “You always know how to push me, don’t you?” he murmured against your lips.
“Me? I think you’re the one who—”
He cut you off with a smirk, his grip tightening. “Ride my thigh,” he said suddenly.
Your heart beat faster. “W-what?” you stammered, caught off guard.
“You heard me,” he repeated, his dark gaze locking with yours. “Show me how much control you really have.”
Your breath hitched as his hands remained steady on your hips, guiding you forward. You hesitated, unsure if this was a line you should cross, but his touch, his words, it was consuming. Slowly, you moved on his thigh, the friction and the intimacy making your pulse quicken.
“Good girl,” he murmured. “Just like that.”
His praise sent a thrill through you, but as the moment grew more intense, the reality of the situation began to creep in. Your hips moved back and forth and your head fell back as the pleasure began to build in a way you didn’t expect. You were leaking through your thong and stockings, staining his pants. His hand moved to your jaw, tilting your face so you couldn’t avoid his gaze. “Cum on my thigh,” he whispered.
The coil in your abdomen snapped, your release hitting you like a truck, and you sagged against him, breathless and unsure how things had escalated this far. His arms wrapped around you as he steadied you, holding you close as the weight of what just happened sank in.
“W-we shouldn’t be doing this,” you whispered, breaking the silence.
“No,” he agreed, his voice low. “But I’m not stopping.”
The rules echoed in your mind, the Front Man’s orders, the consequences if you were caught. You knew you were playing with fire, but there was no denying the pull between you.
“If he finds out,” you trailed off, unsure how to finish the sentence.
His thumb brushed against your cheek as he met your gaze. “He won’t,” he said. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”
The words hung in the air, a reassurance and a promise all at once. You knew it wasn’t that simple, but in his arms, you felt obligated to believe.
#the salesman squid game#the salesman x you#black reader#the salesman x reader#the salesman#the salesman smut#salesman squid game#salesman x reader#salesman smut#squid game salesman#recruiter squid game#squid game recruiter#squid game netflix#squid game#squid game smut#squid game x reader#squid game x y/n#squid game fanfic#squid game season 2#netflix squid game#squid game the salesman#squid game x you#squid game fic#squid game 2#squid game s2#squid game imagine#squid games#squid game fanart#gong yoo x reader#gong yoo
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“We’ll figure it out”
Pairing: Inexperienced!Matt x Inexperienced!Reader
Wordcount: 5.9k +
Summary: what happens when you hook up with your long time best friend? Except both of you are virgins.
Warnings: Smut, nasty, language, use of y/n, pet names (pretty boy, sweetheart, pretty girl, etc), reader has a cat named sun, study session, oral m!receiving, brief crying, oral f!receiving, praise kink, fingering, cowgirl, no protection (wrap it up!), she’s not on BC, creampie
(A/N: English is not my first language. So sorry for any mistakes. Feedback is always appreciated. Enjoy xx)
You have known the triplets since middle school, and you’ve been close to all of them.
Well, especially with Nick.
Everything was fine, you weren’t too popular, but you also weren’t overlooked. you were middle class, not poor but also not rich. You were pretty, but never got too much attention because of it.
Little do you know, but you’re gorgeous. If you wanted to you could easily be one of the popular girls in school. But you didn’t care for it. High school was temporary, and you knew that.
And that’s exactly what Matt admires about you.
Matt is pretty introverted, and especially around freshmen year, you and his brothers would quite literally have to force him to go to school.
Now he was more calm though. Sometimes his anxiety would mess with him, but he overcame it with you and his brother's help.
For the fact that you’ve only known them since middle school, you went over to their house quite a lot. But sometimes they’d come over to yours as well.
Matt was a virgin. Most people would think that. He’s awkward in social situations and pretty shy and introverted before you get to know him.
Though, he’s had a short-term girlfriend before. Wich, at least was something.
You never dated anyone. You never cared to. You’d much rather focus on your friends and school, than some boy.
You were a virgin. It wasn’t like you never watches porn, or were innocent really. You just never got to the point of losing it to someone. Everything you’ve done was by yourself.
Wich would be fine. But you were in senior year now, and the year was almost over. Most people around you had already lost it, and you felt left out.
You were sitting at lunch, listening to Chris drone on and on about some girl he hooked up with. You purse your lips, your apatite disappearing more and more.
Suddenly Chris looks over to you. “Y/n how was your first time?”
You tense up, Taking in a harsh breath.
“Chris! You don’t just ask shit like that” Nick huffs hitting Chris on the arm.
Matt, who was sitting next to you, puts his hand on your thigh in comfort.
You squint your eyes at Chris, judging him. Or at least you try to make it look judgy.
You lean further into Matt’s side. His physical presence was keeping you grounded.
And when matt noticed just that, he takes his hand off of your thigh and instead wrapped it around your waist to pull you even closer.
“That’s none of your business.” You huff staring back at Chris.
But internally you were embarrassed because you were still a virgin.
★ ★ ★
You had planned a sleepover and study night with matt a few days ago. Essentially, he’d come to your house on Friday, and you would study. until you got tired of it and watched a movie or something.
So after school matt drove his brothers home and then drove to your house.
You got out of the car, watching as Matt reached into the backseat to grab his overnight bag.
You couldn’t help but think back to lunch break when Chris had made that comment. Chris was a player, and you knew that.
But everybody around you had lost their v card, and you just felt so left behind.
Matt huffs snapping his fingers in front of your face. You blink. He takes the keys out of your hand, grabbing your forearm to pull you to the door.
“You back with me y/n/n?” Matt ask. He looks over his shoulder as he blindly fiddles with your house keys.
“Yeah, sorry. zoned out.” You answer simply.
Matt chuckles at the flat response. He looks back at the door and finally twists it open. You two both walk in, both of you taking your shoes on.
“Hello, we’re back” Matt says loudly into the room.
You put on your house shoes and so does Matt.
You look over your shoulder at Matt with an amused expression. “Matt they already left” you huff.
“What? I thought they were gonna leave at 4?” He asks, pulling out his phone from his jean's back pocket.
It’s 4.26 pm
“Oh.” He says flatly staring at his screen.
Your parents had driven out for the weekend to your grandparents house. It was a few hours away. You hadn’t wanted to go, because for one you had already made plans for the sleepover with Matt.
And also because you had the test on Monday and you wanted to study the weekend away.
You were probably not going to anyway, but in theory..
“Yeah. oh.” You roll your eyes. Your siblings went with your parents so the house was empty. It’d be the perfect opportunity for a house party.
But you weren’t one to party, and your parents trusted you.
You and Matt walk to your kitchen. Well, it’s just matt trailing behind you.
“You want a drink?” You ask simply while you take out a Pepsi can for yourself and then put it on the counter nearest.
Matt comes up behind you. He looks over your shoulder scanning the contents of the fridge.
“Pepsi please,” he says under his breath.
You take out another can and then proceed to put it next to your can on the counter.
You slam the fridge door shut. You feel Matt turn you around before he’s hugging you. His arms wrap around your waist as he buries his face in your neck.
Matt had always been a big softie. No matter how much he loves to deny it he loves hugs and being all sappy and shit.
His own love language was acts of service though. He’d do anything for someone he likes.
And so if he finds a song that reminds him of you, he’ll tell you. If you are hungry, he’s immediately googling places to eat. If you look slightly sad or upset, even though you just have a resting bitch face, he’s immediately doing something stupid to make you laugh.
You know each other in and out.
He knows you love physical touch. So he’d make it a point to hug you at least once a day.
The day was long and draining. It was a normal boring school day.
His hug is warm, his arms feel firm around you.
And despite not having known him since kindergarten or something, it feels like you’ve known him forever.
You can’t think of any future scenario without him in your life.
“You always smell so good” he mumbles, dramatically nuzzling his face into the side of your neck.
You chuckle at the compliment.
“Come on pretty boy, we gotta study.” You hum slightly pulling away. Matt dramatically groans in response but reluctantly pulls away.
You pick up the two Pepsi cans and start to walk back to the stairs.
Matt grabs both of your school bags and carries them upstairs with him.
Once you’re in your room you pull out your desk chair and sit down.
Matt puts both your backpacks against the wall. He walks towards the bed to sit down when he spots your cat.
“Sunny” he exclaims excitedly. As much as Matt would love to say he’s a dog person. He loves your cat.
She’s and orange Persian cat. Her hair is fluffy and long. She looks like a ball of hair all curled up in your bedsheets like that.
You look over to matt and your bed. You watch as your cat looks up at him and he coos at her. He slowly sits down and starts to pet your cat.
★ ★ ★
By now two hours of studying had passed. You were both now sitting on the floor on your carpet, the study material all sprawled out across from you.
You and Matt were sitting next to each other, your cat still sleeping on your bed.
“Matt I’m bored” you whine loudly. You throw your head back dramatically and groan.
Matt looks over at you watching you as you complain. He looks mildly agitated himself.
Before he can protest and tell you that you two need to continue studying you start to put the pages and books on top of each other.
Once no books and loose papers are sprawled out anymore you sit back again.
“Y/n” he rolls his eyes and you can feel the lecture incoming.
“Matt please, I’m literally about to die of boredom.”
“You’re so dramatic” he scoffs watching you.
And for a moment You two just look at each other. Neither of you say anything. You just stare. Your face relaxes out of the pout. Matt looks over your features like he’s admiring you for the first time. Like you’re a piece of art.
You can feel yourself start to grow hot. The tension in the room skyrockets.
“You’re so pretty you know that,” Matt says under his breath. Matt leans over on his arm leaning closer to you.
Your mind is blank, and you can’t come up with an answer. You just take in the compliment.
“So fucking gorgeous” he sighs and before either of you knew it his lips are on yours.
You freeze for a second your eyes wide. But like it’s an instinct you immediately kiss back.
Matt’s hand finds its way to your jaw holding you in place, while he tilts his head to the side to deepen the kiss.
You were sitting Chris-cross while Matt was sitting on his legs, sitting just a bit higher than you.
After a while of just innocently kissing, he pulls away. You two stay close though. His eyes instantly widen as if he knew he fucked up.
“Fuck- I’m sorry” he breaths out, taking his hand from your face.
You sit up. Uncrossing your legs. you shift to sit on them, fully facing a blushing Matt. And you’re sure you have a matching red hue on your cheeks as well.
“No.”
the statement catches Matt off guard. He immediately looks back over at you, confused.
As soon as he looks back over at you, you reconnect your lips with his. He sighs into the kiss. His open mouth grants you the opening you need as you swiftly slip your tongue into his mouth.
You’re a virgin. That doesn’t mean you’re fully inexperienced tho.
You two make out heavily for a while. Making out like you’re trying to feel every part of each other.
Somehow you ended up in a position with you straddling Matt, as he has his legs sprawled out.
You pull away, both of you breathing hard.
“Y/n..” Matt starts his voice shaky.
He averts his eyes, the blush on his cheeks and even deeper red than before.
“I’m a virgin” he admits under his breath.
You thought for sure that Matt wasn’t. You were. But you also never dated anyone. Matt used to have a girlfriend though. But he’d never done it?
“Like fully?” You ask out of curiosity.
But it wasn’t like you wanted to use him. You liked him for being, himself. His presence made you flustered, feeling butterflies in your stomach, and all giddy.
“Yeah” he breaths out. You watch him close his eyes as if willing his embarrassment to leave. “I’ve never, done anything..”
You pause thinking of the best way to reply. “Neither have I.” You say softly, feeling mildly flustered as well. But both of you were inexperienced. You were in the same boat.
He pauses for a second at the reply. It was obvious that he thought you at least had one body. He didn’t think you were a virgin too.
“You… you wanna try?” He questions. Now he looks a lot less embarrassed than he did just a few seconds ago.
You bite the inside of your cheek. “If you want to?”
He pulls you back in for another kiss by the back of your neck. The kiss is shorter and more reassuring.
Matt pulls out of the kiss his hands going to your waist “We can figure it out?” He asks hopefully.
You nod in agreement. You could feel Matt’s bulge through his pants with the way you were sitting. And you could feel yourself aching.
What’s the harm in trying. He’s your best friend after all. Besides you’d finally lose it, and to someone you trust.
You peck his lips briefly before you get up off of his lap.
Matt gets up off of the ground too. You pick up your cat and wake her in the process. She meows at you in annoyance before you chuckle and put her on the ground.
Matt opens the door as Sunny finally but reluctantly leaves the room.
You pull off your shirt tossing it away. Matt turns around to see you sitting on your bed with your top discarded, your bra in full view. His eyes widen.
He licks his lips, his eyes shamelessly tracing your body.
Matt comes to hover over you while you sit there. “You’re such a tease” he chuckles. He leans down to capture your lips in a brief kiss again.
It was like he couldn’t get enough of your lips.
“Get on the ground,” Matt says, his tone more demanding and rough with lust.
You obey. You slide off your bed, getting on your knees on the ground.
Matt tugs his shirt off throwing it off to the side. He unbuckles his belt and undoes the button and zipper on his jeans before finally sliding them off and tossing them away.
You curiously watch. The only men you’d seen in this position were in pornos. This though, was your best friend since middle school.
Sometimes you forgot he was an actual man with a dick and all.
And right now, seeing the imprint of his cock through his boxers felt surreal.
He starts to tug on his boxers. Your eyes go up to meet his. “Ever gotten your dick sucked?” You ask sarcastically to cover up how nervous you are.
“No.” He breaths out. While continuing to look down at you he finally pulls down his boxers. He tosses them away too.
Your eyes trail from his eyes to his lips, over his jawline and his chest, down to his dick. The dick that was rock hard and right in front of your face.
Your eyes widen, as you sit back your hands staying on your knees as you just stare.
His tip was the same red he had on his cheeks, leaking pre cum. He had a vain running up his shaft. You always thought that male body part was rather disgusting looking.
But the way Matt’s looks right now…
You don’t know if it’s just the burning lust running through your body. But you actually really wanted to taste that.
Your hand goes to cup his aching cock. He lets out a sharp sigh at the feeling. You touch it gently. You don’t move your hand and stay careful of your manicured nails.
“I don’t know what I’m doing” you breathe out. While you do, you gently start to move your hand up and down your length slowly jerking him off.
“I don’t either,” he tilts his head forwards closing his eyes for a secound. “Keep going we’ll figure it out,” Matt assures you.
His hand goes to the back of your head. His hand starts to smooth down your hair.
“C’mon baby, don’t be shy” he coos staring down at you. Matt looks down at you like he’s done this a billion times before when he claims he never had.
But you guess one of you at least had to pretend that you were understanding what you’re doing right now.
You lean forward leaving a tender kiss on the tip. You do what you think someone would do in this situation.
The way he shudders at the simple touch though, shows that he is in fact, not experienced.
In hindsight, you don’t know why you thought that he was experienced. You just assumed.
“You think this will fuck up our friendship?” You ask while still slowly jerking him off.
Matt’s breaths are slightly shaky, but he chuckles at the question.
“No. I won’t let it.” He huffs.
“So..” you pause your movements. You glance down at his dick and the way your manicured hand wraps around it. And how huge it looks.
You then look back up at him through your lashes. “How am I supposed to do this?” You ask uncertainly.
“I don’t know.” He pauses to lick his lips. The way you, his best friend, look up at him through your lashes like that, was making him even more aroused.
“Just do what you feel like. But be careful of your teeth.” He says slowly. he wasn’t even sure himself.
You raise your eyebrow at his vague response. Neither of you knew how to do it, so you might as well imitate the porn that you’ve watched.
You drag you tongue up his shaft, keeping your eyes locked on his. When you’re at the tip you lick up all the pre cum leaking. You keep eye contact with matt, and it was driving him crazy.
He lets out shaky breaths. He was clearly enjoying this.
You kiss his tip again, before wrapping your lips around his tip. You slowly swirl your tongue around it trying to see how he’ll react.
You watch him to see if he likes it or not.
“Yeah, like that,” he says under his breath staring down at you.
With his praise and encouragement, you start to take him further down your throat. Slowly and carefully.
Matt whispers praises into the quiet room. All of them go right to your core and boost your ego.
You eventually feel comfortable enough to bob your head. You were jerking off what you couldn’t fit in your mouth. You were bobbing your head at a rhythmic pace and hollowing out your cheeks occasionally.
“I’m close-“ Matt whines. He actually whines.
And that sound. The power you had to make him sound like that was making you feel even more confident.
You don’t slow down your pace. You just keep going.
Until matt puts your hair in a makeshift ponytail. He tugs on it hard, to keep you still. He starts at a gentle but fast pace.
You feel your eyes fog up. The constant hit to the back of your throat makes you gag slightly.
His pace starts to become more and more sloppy as the seconds pass though.
You feel his dick hit the back of your throat before you suddenly feel your mouth be filled.
You feel his sticky load shoot down your throat. He pants, pulling at your hair to pull you off.
You swallowed what you could. But still, you feel a bit of it roll down your chin.
“Sh, sorry no don’t cry.” He immediately panics cupping your face in his hands. He looks down at you, worried. As if he thinks he went too far.
He wipes away the tears. The tears that you hadn’t even noticed had fallen.
Sighing, you can’t help the smile that forms on your face. “I’m okay Matty” you breathe out softly. His facial expression visibly relaxes at the statement.
“I’m sorry if that was too hard”
“It wasn’t, you’re good.” You stand up.
You immediately go to undo your own jeans. You slip out of them, throwing them off to the side.
His eyes roam over your body. The air is thick, both of your bodies pulsing with pure lust and awe.
You watch as his half-hard dick gets hard again.
You chuckle at the reaction. You teasingly take your bra off. And once you unclasp it, it’s Thrown across the room to the rest of your clothes.
His eyes trail your body again. He can’t help himself at the way your boobs look. He’s always admired you from afar. He never thought he’d ever be able to see you like this.
Sure he had imagined you two together like this before, but he never thought he’d actually get to see it. Besides, the real thing, the euphoria, it all felt better than he could’ve ever thought.
“So pretty, baby” he sighs. His hand goes to your chest. you could tell he’d never done this before just by the way he touched you like you were fragile.
But neither of you knowing what you were doing only made this more thrilling.
His hands go to your waist as he pushes you back onto your bed. He hovers over you for a moment, before crashing his lips back onto yours.
You kiss back, but you mostly let him take the lead. After he breaks the kiss, You feel him start to trail his kisses down your jawline and neck, while needing your breast in his hand.
He sits up again putting his other hand on your chest and needing it too, watching the way his hands look wrapped around your tits.
He sighs getting off of you and between your legs.
“Tell me when it feels good, sweetheart, alright?” He hums. He pulls at your panties, taking them off and half-heartedly throwing them away.
His eyes stay locked on your pussy. He admires it, like it’s the first time he’s seen it, which it is.
He puts your legs over his shoulders to give himself a better angle. He uses his middle finger to brush through your folds experimentally, watching you in awe.
You sigh at the contact on your folds. You’ve never been touched there. But Matt’s touch felt so incredibly comforting and good.
Your core was aching, pulsing around nothing. And Matt watched.
After a moment he kissed just above your clit. Kissing a trail down to your clit, before harshly starting to suck on it.
Your moan tears through the room. You were startled by how bold and confident he acted.
He groans into your core at your taste on his tongue. The groan sends pleasure coursing through you and chills down your spine.
“Fuck- matt” you whine. Your thighs clench around his head trying to get him closer. Your hand finds its way to his hair tugging on it slightly.
Your other hand berries in the sheets, trying to find something to hold onto. “God- have you done this before?” You ask rhetorically not expecting an answer.
He licks a stripe up your folds and starts to move his tongue against your sensitive nub. You whine and he chuckles.
“No.” He mumbles against you in answer. You throw your head back in pleasure your eyes briefly closing.
You feel Matt pull at you, tilting his head slightly for a deeper angle.
He was eating you out like you were his last meal. But beyond that also like this would be the only time he got to taste your sweet juices.
“Matt, fuck yeah- just like that.” You keep praising him. You notice how it boosts his confidence and in turn, makes this even more pleasurable for you.
You feel a finger brush at your cunt. Before you feel it slide in. Your hand immediately tugs harder at his hair. Your back arches slightly as you throw your head back in pleasure.
He thrusts his middle finger in and out of your tight cunt. He was turning his hand slightly, twisting it and turning it to get a feel for your body and how you react. And to also make you loosen up a bit.
You whine in discomfort. Matt detaches his lips from your clit still hovering close though.
“You okay sweetheart?” He says lowly under his breath.
Your moaning was loud and echoing through the room.
You sit up in your forearms staring down at him and the way he was fingering you like that. Watching the way his finger disappeared in your tight cunt.
“I’m good”
The words come up a bit slurred. The pleasure of him finger fucking you like that, was making your head feel all fuzzy.
“Never fingered yourself, baby?” He asks teasingly. You watch him and the way he steadies himself on his other arm.
He readjusts his finger, curling it up roughly hitting your sweet spot right on.
The touch sends shivers of pleasure down your spine making you shut your eyes and throw your head back.
“Matt, matt-“ you chant his name like a prayer. It’s the only thing you can think of. Him. And only him. That’s all that’s relevant right now.
He slips his second finger into your soaked core with ease. You barely even notice the second finger added. Until he starts to scissor them apart to stretch your insides even further.
He keeps thrusting his fingers in and out of you harshly. Curling them at just the right spots to make your vision blur.
You lay back down fully, as he is now sitting up more.
“Yeah pretty girl, that feel good?” He asks. Your back arches and your mouth falls open in a silent moan.
He leans up further, your legs fall from his shoulders as he hovers over your lower body. He puts his whole hand on your lower stomach applying gentle pressure on it to keep you down on the bed.
“I’m close-“ you breathe out between loud moans.
“good girl, come for me.” You shudder at the pet name. Your thighs shake slightly at the burning intensity of his gaze and the way his fingers curl at just the right spots.
You squirm under his gaze. And suddenly you feel the intense knot in your stomach snap. You feel him continue to finger fuck you, while your entire body feels burning hot.
You feel so warm and overwhelmed by the euphoria flowing through your veins. It feels better than any high you have ever experienced. Not that you’ve experienced a lot.
Once you ride out your high you breathe hard. Your eyes stay closed as you lay back on your bed.
Matt gently pulls out his fingers, making you whine at the loss of contact.
He lays down on your duvet next to you, turns to his side, and watches you.
You also turn to face him after a moment. You two just look at each other.
Matt looks at you with such intense adoration and love, it’s crazy.
“You actually wanna loose your virginity now?” He asks gently. Ignoring the fact that he was rock-hard.
You two so far had only given each other pleasure, but you hadn’t lost your virginity yet.
“Yes” you breathe out. You feel ready now more than you ever have before. Especially if you get to lose it to matt.
He licks his lips looking over your face.
“I don’t have a condom.” He says simply looking back at you. He knew you weren’t on the pill. He’d be fine doing it some other day.
“That’s fine.” You say though , catching him off guard. How desperate do you have to be to let him raw dog it?
“You’re not on the pill tho?” He questions.
“I’m not” you confirm simply. He raises an eyebrow waiting for further explanation. “You can pull out or something.” You shrug.
“That sounds tacky.” He huffs a laugh at how ridiculous that sounds.
“Doesn’t matter, we’ll deal with that tomorrow morning. Just please fuck me?”
You think he’s going to refuse Until he suddenly pulls you on top of him. You sit on his torso for a moment before you get the memo.
“You want me to ride you?” You ask slowly.
“If you’re not comfortable we can switch?” He offers. But why would you decline to ride him?
You shake your head no, before starting to slide down on his torso feeling his length glide between your soaked folds.
“Can’t be that hard?” You question rather skeptically.
In your opinion matt didn’t seem small. Though you had nothing to compare it to. All the girls in porn seemed to struggle with something that looked as big as Matt.
So either this would be really hard or easy for you. But either way, you wanted to try.
“You’re okay, we’ll go slow” he chuckles at your nervousness but is secretly just as scared. “And I’ll help you.” He assures.
You lift yourself hovering over his crotch area. You take in a harsh breath grabbing his dick and hovering over it.
Matt’s hand goes to it too holding it up. While your hand goes to your cunt as you gently and slowly sink down on it.
You both moan at the contact. Getting in the tip was hard. But once that was in you felt like you could easily slide down the rest of it, not that it wouldn’t hurt.
Matt’s free hand goes to your waist, guiding you like he said he would.
“Doing so good, princess.” You whine at the praise, but ultimately slowly skink down further..
Matt keeps your movements steady as you keep doing your thing. His second hand also goes to your waist using it to steady your movements further.
“Fuck so big.” You moan. Your thighs tense as you pull it out slightly. You could feel the stretch burn.
“It’s okay sweetheart. you only got a couple inches left.” He assures you as he starts guiding you back lower on him. Your cunt was aching around him harshly.
“Fuck-“ you sigh. You can’t help yourself when you take one of his hands from your waist and interlock your hands. You need the moral support.
“Such a good girl,” Matt says as you start to gently bounce on what you have fit so far.
He was occasionally groaning. Your moans filled the room, the air in the room staying hot.
He squeezes your hand. You close your eyes at the mixture of pleasure and pain. When you close your eyes he lets his eyes wander down to where your bodies meet.
He’d never done this and this felt so incredibly good. The sight alone could make him come right then and there.
Matt wasn’t dumb, he knew he had quite the dick. It wasn’t small by any means. And he knew that. It was amusing Watching you struggle with what you had, knowing there were at least still 3 more inches to go.
“You okay?” He asks again just to make sure you are okay.
The pain had subsided and you felt the pleasure. Sure you could take more but you were nervous to. This wasn’t as easy as it looked or as You thought it’d be.
“I’m okay” you sigh. You keep yourself gently and slowly bouncing on the upper half of the length of his cock.
Matt knows you really well. And matt just knows you can take more than that, Despite being a virgin himself. It was just a gut feeling. “Baby, I’m gonna need you to bear with me alright?”
Before you can respond, his hand on your waist tightens, and he squeezes your hand that’s intertwined with his. He rams you down on his dick harshly, making you take it as much as you physically could.
Your legs tense up at the harsh treatment. Your eyes close as a moan is ripped out your lungs. You clench so unbelievably tight around him. And just the sight of himself buried so deep inside of you could have him come at the spot.
He groans at the feeling of it as well. “Good-“ he breathes out. “Such a good girl.”
He keeps his hand intertwined with yours for moral support. His hand trails from your waist over your side soothingly.
You sigh at the feeling of him being completely in you. It’s a foreign feeling. It just feels so full.
“I feel so fucking stuffed” you groan dramatically. You let your head hang forward your mouth open in a silent moan.
“Oh, you’re so gonna be stuffed” he huffs. And somehow, even though pregnancy and birth scares the hell out of you, this type of dirty talk was extremely hot to you.
You huff in response starting to grind into him. You grind on his dick, his Hand on your hips helping you as you slowly try to get used to the size.
You sigh pulling all of your hair back out of your face again. You readjust your legs, taking your hand out of Matt’s. You shift, leaning on your arms to lean back slightly.
You start to carefully ride him your moans and whines still audible. Your head is thrown back in pleasure.
Matt watches the way your body moves in awe. Groaning every so often when you clench around him.
His hand goes to rest over your lower stomach, his thumb goes to rub on your clit gently. “Matt.” You gasp at the sudden added pleasure.
You can’t help yourself when you lean back forward. You just really want to see Matt’s face while you ride him.
“So good for me baby, keep going” he encourages. And with his words, you readjust again now pulling out more and ramming yourself back down.
You feel the knot in your stomach get tighter. You feel really good riding him like this, listening to his mumbles of praise and encouragement.
You continue to bounce on him, now chasing your high. And the harsher you slam yourself down the louder you and matt get. The room is filled with your noises as well as skin clapping loudly, and your lewd wetness.
After a few seconds you feel the knot snap. You lean over him, your arms on either side of his head catching you. Your high feels incredible, the heat washing over you like a wave.
Matt’s hand on your waist gets bruisingly harsh. He holds you in place while he thrusts up into you. You whine at the way he fucks you through your high. He was chasing his own now.
“Where do you want it.” His breath is harsh. He choked out the words in his lust-filled voice. He wasn’t asking, he was demanding to know.
“Inside.” You grit out. You bite your lip harshly, feeling your high subside and overstimulation slowly take over.
Matt grunts an agreement and you feel his thrusts get more sloppy and harsh. Until he gives you one last thrust, finally stopping his movements. He pulls you down to sit on him while spurts of his release shoot up into you.
You were pulsing around him, practically milking him for all he’s got. “Such a good girl” matt breathes out. One of his hands goes to trail over your stomach slightly.
He feels the slight bulge in your stomach from his sheer size.
The idea that this is how you make children is crazy to you. And the fact that you just did that with your best friend.
“How’re you feeling?” He asks softly staring up at you lovingly.
“Warm” you respond truthfully. His sticky seed inside of you makes your core feel all warm, along with the fact that you haven’t gotten off of it yet.
“Do you regret it?” He asks gently. After all, you two were best friends, and he had just lost his virginity to you and also taken yours.
Despite being terrified of the fact that you let him raw dog this, you didn’t regret it. In fact, you felt content, you love matt dearly.
“No” you don’t hesitate. You never realized how much you love Matt. He was just always there with you, he was always your best friend. You couldn’t imagine a future without him.
“You’re paying for the plan b pill tho” you chuckle.
He huffs a laugh. you carefully lift yourself off of him feeling your combined juices leak. You can see Matt watching, his eyes focused on your pussy. Watching the way you’re filled to the brim.
You kneel next to him, as you watch him sit up. “Come on sweetheart let’s get you cleaned up.”
Masterlist
A/N: I know this isn’t the most original idea, but I haven’t read any ffs where both of them are virgins. But if there is one that’s similar to mine, just know it was not intentional. In that case, If someone gives me the @ I can credit them.
Taglist: @muwapsturniolo , @sturnad , @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 , @evie-sturns , @me09love , @fratbrochrisgf , @spideylovin , @chrissgirlsstuff , @stunza , @whicked-hazlatwhore , @sturnioloos , @ecliphttlunar , @orangepepsi , @klaus223492 , @char112244 , @sst7niolo
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